Una

In a stormy night pale flickers

The moon through rattling windowpanes,

When Una awakes from opressive dreams

at the witching-hour.

And ominous murmuring surrounded her bed,

like woebegone laments,

Then a sigh seemed to tell her:

Weep no longer for me!

Guglielmo, she knows his voice,

he, who to his heartfelt distress

was carried away by the churning waves,

out of the arms of his beloved.

The shock blanched her face

And she didn't dare show her face,

And again she felt a tremor:

Weep no longer for me!

Agitated was her heaving breast;

Her eyes dimmed;

As yet she was without love,

unconscious of her surroundings!

Before her pulse slowly died away,

The hour was full,

And a cutting voice screamed:

Weep no longer for me!

Morning's enlivening regard

cheers the sky afresh.

For Una the faithful there will be

never again a morning of love.

So she turned to the sea:

Guglielmo, while she was looking for you,

the waves have buried your love!

Now she's moaning for you no longer!