The waves of the Aura River flow quietly,
in so many steps out into the say.
On the shore sits a boy in prison,
the past offers him memories.
The days of my youth are gone,
my blossoming, all my glory,
like the water of a little stream,
or flowers on blue grass.
I grew like a flower on a cliff,
rocked by the gentle evening breeze.
When the autumn storms comes raging,
it will rip the flower away.
I have been sentence to twelve years,
I'm only a boy, younger than twenty.
The days of my youth are enclosed here,
in this grim prisoner's closet.
When my mother embraced me,
she probably daydreamed of a happy future.
Oh mother, mother don't scorn your child,
though your daydreams faded in prison.
The paths of the world are covered in tears,
why did sorrows catch me on the road?
I got to enjoy my youth only for a moment,
then I was seduced by the joys of the world.
Forgive my despicable crimes,
I beg you with tears in my eyes,
for I can have no peace in prison,
oh answer me mother, answer me.
The poor prisoner sings a song,
in vain he waits for an answer,
only his irons chime against the ground,
they echo a grim response.
When I leave the prison as a free man,
the waves of the Aura River will welcome me,
so quiet, quiet I will sink underneath the waves,
oh mother, don't long for your child.