Blaue Stunde

At that hour, when she appeared to me
The sky stood still and blue
And through the dim, pale light surrounding
Her head - adorned with morning dew

White as the moon were her fairy-like limbs
Her hair was like spun gold
And I felt a chill as the hour ended again
In the course of the starry night so bold

Her beauty flows through all of time
Her red lips will forever be mine

The hour passed, the beauty had to flee
Her image vanished in the dawn's glow
I must now move on with the days, you see
But she remains an old familiar dream, though

Since then, I hear her sweet message
In all things, it's truly bizarre
I secretly think of the blue hour
And wonder if it ever was, by far.