Chorus
O my youth, you are like a golden bird,
flying up towards the dawn star, its wings a-tremble,
the forest below in dark gloom covered,
where soon you will find yourself! 
In life’s secrets mournful you’ll be immersed, 
and perhaps just now and then
your own image will be visible to you again—
o, you will reach out in vain! 
In the dark it’s soon gone,
the darkness they call the past.
O youth, why is thy springtime so soon over,
when languor on awakening does linger?
Woe, youth, your craft sails so fast,
at such a pace that to view it is lost!
O, woe that all vanishes into darkness, 
all into darkness!

(As this song fades away, 
the moon rises, illuminating the garden, 
and the trunk of Mahulena’s tree becomes transparent. 
The girl is visible within it, apparently half asleep. 
The leaves rustle as if blown by a powerful gust of wind 
and the girl speaks as in a vision.)