The mother goes through her rooms,
She rifles through the things,
She is searching, and she doesn't know for what, she wails but
She finds nothing but an empty house.

Empty house! Oh lamentable word
For someone who once had a beautiful child
To dangle there during the day,
Who used to rock it gently to sleep there at night.

The beech trees are already turning green again,
The sun's light is coming back,
But, mother, put an end to your search,
Your loved one is not coming back.

And when evening breezes stir,
The father returns home to the hearth,
Something moves within him, like a smile,
But then suddenly tears take over.

The father knows that in his rooms
He will find a deathly calm,
All he can hear is the pale mother's whimpering
And no child is going to smile back at him.