Beautiful Nice, who arouses

Beautiful Nice, who arouses

The trembling and desire of love- ah!

Beautiful Nice, sweet hope

And sole yearning of my heart,

Alas, it will come- and perhaps

That day is already not so far away from me-

When the pitiless hand of death

Will cut short my life's thread.

When in the bosom of the ungodly final abode

Lifeless- alas, wretched- I will be,

Please, please remember how faithfully

This heart always loved you.

Upon my silent ashes

Should you then cast a flower,

Beautiful Nice, less sorrowful

Will the horror of the tomb be for me.