Brahms  op. 42 Nr.3  en

3.  Fair maid of Kola, you are at rest!
Around you, the blue waters of Selma are silent!
They mourn for you,
the last of the race of the Truthils.
When shall you be born again in all your beauty!
You, the most beautiful of Erin's beauties!
You rest in a long sleep in the grave,
your dawn is far away!
Never, never will the sun come back
awakening you in your last resting-place:
"Wake up! Wake up, Darthula!
Spring is outside!
The breeze murmurs on the green hills,
O gracious daughter, the flowers are stirring!
In the woods, the burgeoning leaves are rustling!"
For ever, O sun, withdraw,
the fair maid of Kola sleeps!
Never shall she awaken again in all her beauty!
Never shall you see her again,
wandering in all her loveliness.
 

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