| Margarete Münsterberg, ed., trans. A Harvest of German Verse. 1916. | | | | The Oracle | | By Walter von der Vogelweide (1170–1228) |
| | | BESET with doubts, in agony | |
| I sat quite long alone and thought | |
| How from her service I might be free, | |
| Until a comfort gladness brought. | |
| This thing a comfort I can hardly call, | 5 |
| ’Tis scarce a baby comfort—oh, so small! | |
| And if I tell you, you’ll be mocking me: | |
| Yet without cause no one can happy be. | |
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| A little stalk has made me glad to-day; | |
| It promised happiness I never knew: | 10 |
| I measured with a stalk of straw in play, | |
| As I had often seen the children do. | |
| Now listen, if her heart my love has heeded: | |
| “She loves—loves not—she loves!” Which way my hands would bend, | |
| “She loves me!” always was the end. | 15 |
| So I am happy; only—faith is needed! | | | | |
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