Storm from the north, come! and quickly defoliate the trees,
All the flowers have wilted already,
Ah, the last dreams are fleeing,
The last tones are dying away!
  Storm from the north, come! and roar into it all,
Make an end of the pain of the death!

  Storm from the north, come! break into he gloomily silent dread,
Break into it with your lamenting sound,
Let us no longer desolately see
Unmourned the dead bride!
  Storm from the north, come! why do you still hesitate?
Break, ah break the silence, break it!

  Storm from the north, come! and cover the dark terrors
Soon with shining snow,
If you can no longer waken the meadows,
At least conceal their pain with compassion!
  Storm from the north, come! and through all the dread,
Comfort us by letting us see the sky!