Author: Johannes Brahms
"Oh sink, oh sink your sorrow, my child,
In the sea, in the deep sea!"
A stone will stay at the bottom of the sea, but my sorrow
always rises to the surface.

"And the love that you carry in your heart--Pluck it out, pluck it out, my child!"
Though the flower dies when it is picked,
True love dies not so quickly.

"And the vow, and the vow--it was only a word; throw it to the wind!"
O mother, though the cliff may shatter in the wind, my faithfulness will withstand it!