Sov min Søn, o slumre sødt!
Endnu gaar din Vugge blødt,
Ak, skjøndt Hun, dig Livet gav,
Ligger i den kolde Grav.
Kan ej vaage ved din Blund,
Kysser ej din Rosenmund,
Fanger ej dit første Smil -
Fik ved dig kun Dødens Pil.
Sov min Søn, dog blidelig -
Fader sidder end hos dig,
Vugger dig med uvant Fod,
Skjærmer dig med Liv og Blod.
Ensomt er det om ham nu,
Livet ham en Kval og Gru -
Sorgens helle tunge Last
Bærer han for dig dog fast.
Aldrig skal din Morgen lyst
Mørknes af hans tunge Dyst, -
Aldrig skal dit glade Blik
Se hans bittre Taaredrik.
Sov min Glut, en Slummer sød!
Trives vel, du Liv af Død!
Fader har jo ene dig -
Ak, saa er han endnu rig.
Føler end din Moder nær
I dit milde Uskyldsskjær. -
Er det hende, som du ser
Naar du sødt i Søvne ler?
Fader selv kan Intet se,
Intet uden Dødens Ve -
Kun din spæde Haand igjen
Hjælper ham udover den.
Sov min Søn, o slumre sødt!
Endnu gaar din Vugge blødt,
Ak, skjøndt Hun, dig Livet gav,
Ligger i den kolde Grav.
Text Authorship:
Musical settings (art songs, Lieder, mélodies, (etc.), choral pieces, and other vocal works set to this text), listed by composer (not necessarily exhaustive):
Available translations, adaptations or excerpts, and transliterations (if applicable):
- ENG English (Nigel Parker) , "Cradle song", copyright © 2023, (re)printed on this website with kind permission
Researcher for this text: Emily Ezust [
Administrator]
This text was added to the website between May 1995 and September 2003.
Line count: 36
Word count: 189
Sleep tight my son
I rock your cradle
While she who gave you life
Lies in her cold grave.
She will never watch over your slumber
Nor kiss your rose red lips
Nor catch your first smile,
She ended her life as yours began.
Sleep tight my son
Your father is here
Though not yet used to rocking
He guards you with his life and blood.
Left alone now
He suffers
Bearing the heavy load of sorrow
For your sake.
But never will your bright morning
Be darkened by his heavy mood
Never will your happy smile
Glimpse his bitter tears.
Sleep tight my son
Who sprang from death
Your father now has you alone
But that, a rich reward.
I sense your mother's presence
In your innocent countenance
Is it her you are seeing
When you smile thus in your sleep?
For myself I see nothing
But her death throes
With only your little hand
To help me.
Sleep tight my son
I rock your cradle
While she who gave you life
Lies in her cold grave.
