It’s time, my friend: it’s time! The heart wants rest—

the days slip by, the hours take away

fragments of our life: and you and I

plan how to live and,—just like that—we die.

No happiness on earth, yet there’s freedom, peace.

I’ve long dreamt of an enviable fate—

I’ve long thought, a weary slave, to fly

to some far place of labour and true joy.