The wind strikes silently, the leafs are falling.
Sleep, children of my songs, there are no more sounds.
And just one song is left,
A song about a leaf suddenly fallen,
Terrible! What, my God, is going to be its fate?
Rest, oh my soul, the autumn will come quietly.
When the leaf has fallen, well, its song remains.
Who will to your songs listen,
If my voice, come the spring,
The death wind will scatter around?
The wind strikes silently, the leafs are falling.
Sleep, children of my songs, there are no more sounds.