The one, who lies in a grave,
Hears wondrous jingling
And can feel the scent
Of the whitest lily.

The one, who lies in a grave
Sees the light eternal,
Angels’ snow-white shade,
Their feathers’ murmur.

There, you are dying
And your hands are cold
Unearthly spring is coming
That you do not know.

But you go to heaven -
I prayed to see you there.
It is so, I know that
And to you I swear.