I should not, should not be singing
Not putting my songs to melody at all
My mood is low as the ground
Down beneath my thoughts reside
What may have brought unworthy me
To this point of hopelessness
Downcast is the bird of sorrow
Few words are on the pining-bird's tongue
I think of my times
And obsess over my worries
I bear the troubles of my five brothers
And my mother's as well
I should not, should not be singing
Not putting my songs to melody at all
That which dawn lifts up
Merely sinks me to greater depths
The marshes melt, waters flow over the ground
The ice breaks up off the seashore
But my troubles remain unchanged
The chill just remains by my side
I think of my times
And obsess over my worries
I bear the troubles of my five brothers
And my mother's as well
I think of my times
And obsess over my worries
It's troublesome for me to lay down to rest
Only with difficulty do I fall into exhausted sleep