The Solitary

The Solitary

When my crickets chirp,
At night, on the late-burning hearth,
Then I can sit down with a contented mind,
Cosily by the fire,
so easy, so free from care.

A dear, silent little hour
One gladly spends awake by the fire;
When the flame sinks, one pokes
The sparks into life, and ponders and thinks:
Well, one more day!

Whatever love or sorrow
Has brought to us in the course of the day;
This passes once more through the mind;
But the evil one casts away,
It must not disturb the night.

For a happy dream
One gently prepares oneself,
And when, carefree, a sweet image
Fills the soul with gentle joy
One gives oneself over to rest.

Oh how content I am with myself
In my quiet country ways!
That which in the bustle of the noisy world,
Holds the wandering heart in fetters
Does not give contentedness.

Chirp on and on, dear cricket,
In my small and narrow room,
I tolerate you gladly: you do not disturb me,
When your song breaks the silence
I am not wholly alone

In a lot of ways, I was experiencing these sentiments while I was typing out this song (which btw, is a translation from a German song called Der Einsame by karl Gottlieb Lappe) .
It is a Friday night around 1 am, very very quiet . Its raining outside and I can hear the raindrops on my window pane. And I have just finished another hectic week.