Joseph Freih Eichendorff

1788-1857 / Germany

Night Of The Moon

It was as though the sky
had silently kissed the earth,
so that it now had to dream of sky
in shimmers of flowers.
The air went through the fields,
the corn-ears leaned heavy down
the woods swished softly—
so clear with stars was the night

And my soul stretched
its wings out wide,
flew through the silent lands
as though it were flying home.
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