It's not the wind that tilts a branch,
It's not the forest that roars,
It's my heart that cries,
That trembles like an autumn leaf.
I'm tormented with this sorrow,
It's like a poisonous snake!
You, burn down, my pine splinter,
I burn down together with you.
My life is nothing without my sweetheart.
Who shall I walk down the aisle with?
Then, I'm destined in my youth
To be married to a grave*.
Open, damp earth,
Give me some peace!
Shelter me, my dear,
In a quiet coffin cell.
It's not the wind that tilts a branch,
It's not the forest that roars,
It's my heart that cries,
That trembles like an autumn leaf.
translated by Natalia Chernega
* allegory that means premature death.