A maiden with a harp
Playing to the swans
In this silver moon night
Dropping their tears her eyes
Forlorn maiden with no hope
Sadness took over her soul
Crestfallen she goes on alone
Through gardens of withered roses
Mournful crying lulls to sleep the night
Fall from Heaven the angels' crying
To wash away the grief from her soul
And lead her to the land of her beloved one
