Now night is coming on,
cattle and people are released,
desired rest begins,
my sorrow approaches.

The moonlight and the little golden stars
shine beautifully,
everything all round is happy;
only I am in sadness.

Two are lacking everywhere
in the number of the beautiful stars;
the two stars I mean are
the dear eyes of my beloved.

The moon holds no charms for me,
the light of the stars is dark since
Asteris, my firmament,
has turned away from me.

But when she,
the beauty of my sun,
approaches me again,
I prefer neither star nor moon to shine.

Martin Opitz