The Ruined Mill
Julius Karl Reinhold Sturm
The moon is newly risen,
I wander through the vale;
My dreaming eyes are spell-bound
By radiance sad and pale.
Behind the mill she rises;
I watch her silver shield,
And in my heart burst open
The wounds I thought were healed.
Long since, the wheels have mouldered,
And roof and door are gone;
Babbling of days departed
The glittering stream flows on.
The moon has sunk in darkness,
The wind is blowing cold;
Dead is the miller's daughter,
And I am grey and old.
Translated by Constance Naden.
