Mischievous Joy by Johann Wolfgang Von Goethe

AS a butterfly renew'd,

When in life I breath'd my last,

To the spots my flight I wing,

Scenes of heav'nly rapture past,

Over meadows, to the spring, Round the hill, and through the wood.

Soon a tender pair I spy,

And I look down from my seat

On the beauteous maiden's head --

When embodied there I meet

All I lost as soon as dead, Happy as before am I.

Him she clasps with silent smile,

And his mouth the hour improves,

Sent by kindly Deities;

First from breast to mouth it roves,

Then from mouth to hands it flies, And I round him sport the while.

And she sees me hov'ring near;

Trembling at her lovers rapture,

Up she springs -- I fly away,

"Dearest! let's the insect capture

Come! I long to make my prey Yonder pretty little dear! "