Песня сироты
(Перевод Е.Витковского)Я ничто и не буду ничем single day.
I am small, and all around great fuss;
continue no better.
Papa, Mama,
pity on me.
However, I am not worthy of worry:
harvest has already been removed.
's time has not come to me and will not come -
not need anywhere orphan.
I wear without changing his clothes,
long-lost color.
But, perhaps, by the will of God, rags
ever wear no.
not were replaced by strands of my hair,
is the same each strand,
and one who had once fondled them, -
they shall never be caressed.
Das Lied der Waise
Ich bin Niemand und werde auch Niemand sein.
Jetzt bin ich ja zum Sein noch zu klein;
aber auch später.
mothers and Vättern,
have pity on me.
Although it is not worth the trouble grooming:
I will cut it.
can use me no: now it is too early
and tomorrow it's too late.
I only have this one dress,
it is thin and faded, but considers it an eternity
even before God, perhaps.
l have only this little bit of hair
(always the same),
was once a love.
Now he does not love anything more.
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