I begged the linden blossom fair
To tell its secret true:
“From where comes all this love you bear,
And give the whole world too?”

The gentle linden spoke to me
Of springs from long ago,
When endlessly, beneath its tree,
Two hearts began to glow.

Of children in its cooling shade
Who played at blind man’s game,
Of flocks of snowy sheep that strayed,
As shepherd dogs there came.

Of suns obscured by smoke and flame,
Of houses burned alive,
When war along the country came,
Through fields where men would strive.

Of one poor soldier who drew near,
Bound for his native land,
But tired forever, lost to tear
And longing’s heavy hand.

Of doina songs that climbed the skies
From panpipes filled with pain,
Of cloth that fluttered, bright to eyes,
Its spectral hues again.

From life the linden took its part,
The finest things it knew;
It multiplied love in its heart,
And shared it all with you.