Listen to this Evening! Early candle-light
Is beating at the window. Our field night,
Our juvenility are calling us back
To the sacred Temple far from men’s track.

Is it time for me to go away?
Oh don’t disturb our shadow play!
The thread of inspiration tears easily,
And ecstasy of light can decrease in me.

Wonderful minutes, minutes of hush
Gift us with the long-expected mystic gush.
The wind’s blowing the waves into great peaks.
Four elements are crying from our lips.

Listen to this Evening! Early candle-light
Is beating at the window. The moon-sun-star-bright
Voice of inspiration is weaving the web of life.
At last the hour arrived.
Nobody can stop our drive.
No man alive!