O leaves, withered leaves

O leaves, withered leaves!

How very mournful you are!

When you still had a green gleam,

my dear treasure still was mine -

he whom I have no longer.

O leaves, withered leaves!

You had seen him so often,

when he promised to be true -

alas! can Love, like a leaf,

pass away in only one year?

O leaves, withered leaves!

He was a false boy;

If I lament to you, you will keep silent,

for I will tell no one else

how much I love him still.