The Orphan of the Tyrol

Alone and trembling, a poor child with no parents

implores passers-by,

"Oh, see my pain and my tears!

My mother sleeps far from here 'neath the flowers."

The humble, starving orphan child

holds out her hand for a crust.

"I will sing my old song.

Oh, far from my sweet Tyrol,

my broken heart will fly away.

The mute echo of the woods

will ne'er hear again my sad voice.

God, I trust in you,

have pity, have pity on me.

"Mother, your good-bye here

inspires my only wish to God.

At 15, such suffering is death.

Can't you come back to bless me?

Why have cold death and its knell

snatched you from my arms?

Your icy heart doesn't hear me.

Pain and hunger

will put an end to my torments.

Mother, I can see you,

I can hear your sweet voice in the distance.

God, I trust in you,

have pity, have pity on me."