Dear Joerg,

Here's my translation for you.

DOWN BY THE STRAND

I was walking down by the strand late at night,
The whole world asleep except for me,
The seabirds calling woefully,
Just like poor souls in pain.

The boats are moored down by the shore,
Floating like swans on top of the waves,
The water slipping about their sides,
Moving in the quiet here and there.

A full moon and a full spring tide,
The world is blissful, quiet and beautiful,
The murmur of the sea going around in my ears,
The water's soft music trickling in the river.

There's an old hallowed graveyard in the water meadows,
And I'm thinking about the people who lie there,
Young men and women, old folks and children,
My own relations and dear friends.

The cocks are crowing and the stars are disappearing,
The moon is sinking and it's not long 'till the day,
Goodbye to you now old hallowed graveyard,
And to the people who used to walk with me down by the strand.