Night is falling.
Long shadows cover us as like a velvet cloak,
Hiding us from the prying eyes of the passersby,
While the playful wind ruffles your disheveled hair,
Which falls in waves on your white marble shoulders.

Night is falling.
The Danube crawls quietly at our feet,
Tired of this endless pilgrimage,
And your thoughts flow with it to distant horizons,
Where the blue sky kisses the gloomy sea.

Night is falling.
Everything around is quiet and calm,
For the world is tired of so much turmoil,
Of so much labor, of so much pain, of so much hope,
And is getting ready for the holy and well deserved rest.

Night is falling.
Suddenly, your heart starts to beat faster,
Maybe out of fear, out of amazement or out of delight,
And I sit and listen to it petrified with emotion,
Fearing that it might come out of your chest.

Now it's night.
We have remained in the same place, side by side,
Nailed to the ground like deep-rooted trees,
But our pure souls, which are full of happiness,
Hug impetuously and rise hastily to the stars.