– Whistle chiming your song about a golden day –,
complain your clutching pain in Aeolian tones –
The truth whispers humming the melody
in the thicket behind the ditch,
in the darkness of the living room –
– Rejoice, listening wanderer,
over the mercy of the harmony –,
flee, quickly and quietly,
for the gloomy fight of the notes –
Voices and notes answer, wanderer,
sharply your questioning smile –