Silently my rotten dugout boat is drifting,
The lake surges clearly and quietly,
Crimson-warm evening shadows
Are colouring the snow on the mountains.

The halls of an island cloister
Arise dimly,
I hear the priory bells ringing
And the devout choir of the sisters:

Everlasting fountain of love,
 Consoler of those who are sad,
 Loving Mother of the Saviour,
 Hail, Virgin of all virgins.

Humming, singing, fading away purely,
Sweetly dying away, the sound comes;
Vibrating, the breeze and the wave carry
Away the last breath of the sound.

And my right hand lets the oar sink,
My heart falls silent in prayer,
And it seems to me as if angels
Were carrying a soul heavenward!