Thou hast made me endless, such is thy pleasure
This frail vessel thou emptiest again and again
And fillest it ever with fresh life

This little flute of a reed
Thou hast carried over hills and dales
And hast breathed through it
Melodies eternally new

At the immortal touch of thy hands
My little heart loses its limits
In joy and gives birth to utterance ineffable

Thy infinite gifts come to me
Only on these very small hands of mine
Ages pass, and still thou pourest
And still there is room to fill