Was rauschet, was rieselt, was rinnet so schnell? Was blitzt in der Sonne? Was schimmert so hell? Und als ich so fragte, da murmelt er Bach: »Der Frühling, der Frühling, der Frühling ist wach!« Was knospet, was keimet, was duftet so lind? Was klingelt, was klaget, was flötet so klar? |