at the well, before the gate there is one linden tree

dreamt in its shadow so many sweet dream

carved in its bark, so many love word

it also involves in joy and dorrow, to him i gone away

must even today walk passing in deep night

thats when, i stilli in the darkness, closed eyes

its branch rustled, as them called to me come

here to me, journeyman, here find your peace/rest

the cold winde

blows me into my face

the hat fly. me. from

head i. turnee me

no
now. am i. many hours away from. that

place always hear its rustled

find rest/ there! 重复