An die Freunde
To my Friends


In the forest, the forest, there bury me
With no stone, no cross, no ceremony,
For, any towering device
Will be brought low by Winter's snow and ice.

When Spring-time once again comes round,
Brings flowers to my burial mound,
Good friends, enjoy yourselves, yourselves enjoy;
That is all far beyond a dead man’s employ.

But no, for your love branches far
Into the realm where spirits are,
Leads you to visit at my grave,
Draws me deeper into my enclave.