Classic Poem

Es erklingen alle Bäume

All the trees are full of music;
Nests are singing, high and small
In this green, orchestral concert,
Who's conductor of it all?

Can it be that old, gray plover
Who keeps nodding to the beat?
Or that pedant who, up yonder,
Marks his " Cuckoo " strong and sweet?

Or is it the stork, who gravely,
Keeps on tapping with his bill,
Just as though he were directing,
While the others soar and trill.

No; my own heart holds the leader;
Well he knows the stress thereof!
And I feel the time he's beating,
And I think his name is Love.