O Gods, O my Gods! 
O how sad, how sad the evening earth!
How mysterious are the mists above the swamp! 
He who has wandered in these mists,
Who has much suffered before his death,
Who has flown over this earth
With burdens too heavy on his back,
That man knows this.
 
O Gods, O my Gods! 
O how sad, how sad the evening earth!
The weary man knows this.
And then without any regret 
he leaves the mists of the earth,
And its swamps, and its rivers,
He gives himself with a light heart 
Into the hands of death,
Requiem aeterna dona eis, Domine...
He gives himself with a light heart 
Into the hands of death,
Knowing that it alone
Will bring him peace.