"Alle Tōte liegen ruhig in sejer Ruh'; Zu Gott's Kisse-kowed flieh' ich bald zu. Vun Gott's Kisse-kowed well ich nit ābtreten, Bis Er wet derhören mein Schreien, mein Beten."
"Ribōne-schel-ōlem, wu senen Deine Rachmones? Der Vāter bist Du vun Jessōmim un' Almones, Wie kännst Du sehen, wie die Marschas Giesst aus auf mein Jossem ihr giftigen Kas?
woe to me! What does the stepmother do to my beloved child?
"My whole life that I have passed was nothing but a dark night; my child had been my light, my lustre,--and now he suffers both sorrow and pain.
"With the blood of my heart I have reared him, I have washed him with the tears of my eyes;--now they tap his blood, they break his bones; he weeps, he cries,--but no one helps him.
"People stand all round about; why are you silent? Are you dumb? Even if your heart is of iron and stone, it ought to melt from the child's hot tears.
"Now look! The stepmother strikes him upon his head, she scratches his face,--blood trickles down; she beats him, throws him down on the ground; she bites him, tears him, breaks his limbs.
"He cries:--O mother, O mother, help me! If you cannot help me take me to you!--Arise, all you dead, arise quickly! Arise, all you dead, and save my child!
"All the dead lie quietly in their rest; to God's own throne I shall soon fly. From God's own throne I shall not depart, ere He will hear my cries, my entreaty."
"Lord of the World, where are Your mercies? You are the father of orphans and widows,--how can You look at the evil woman pouring forth her venomous anger upon my orphan?
"Meine junge Jāhren hāst Du mir ābgeschnitten, Bist Du mechujew mein Jossem zu hüten; Vun dein Welt hāb' ich nit geha't Vergenügen, To lās mich chotsch ruhig in Keewer einliegen!
"Wie känn ich in Keewer einliegen beruht, Wenn 's rinnt mir arein mein Jossem's Blut? Wie känn ich zum Grub zurück sich umkehren, Wenn mein Grub is' vull mit mein Jossem's Trähren?"
"Nu, schweig schōn, mein Kind, sei ruhig mein Neschome! Ich hāb' schōn gehört vun Gott a Nechome: Gott sāgt, 's wet sein zu deine Zores an End', Er wet ausloesen dich vun der Stiefmutter's Händ'.
"Die Reschas, die Stiefmutter wet Gott bestrāfen, Un' du, mein Kind, schweig! Zu Gott sollst nor hoffen! Far alle deine Zores, far alle deine Lēid, Wet Gott dir bezāhlen mit Nechomes un' Frēud'.