On the blue summer evenings, I shall go down the paths,
Getting pricked by the corn, crushing the short grass:
In a dream I shall feel its coolness on my feet.

I shall let the wind bathe my bare head.

I shall not speak, I shall think about nothing:

But endless love will mount in my soul;
And I shall travel far, very far, like a gypsy,
Through the countryside - as happy as if I were with a woman.