Her beloved child had passed away
The mother finds no peace, they say
Already lost her husband, true
And now her child, anguish grew
Her tears had already run dry
The pain persisted, wouldn't say goodbye
In the deep of night, she wandered outside
The moon, her friend, was so allied
The beauty of the snowy land
She didn't see nor understand
But suddenly, an enchanting sound
Oh, children's voices, all around!
Mother Bertha and her merry band
Headed towards the woods, hand in hand
The last child struggled, visibly struck
Carrying a burden, a heavy jug
She aided him by the bulky fence
Then recognized h e r child, intense
It carried all the tears she'd shed
The jug was full, his shirt so wet!
'Oh, dearest mother, let me go
SHE will take care and soothe all woe! '
She kissed his cheek with love profound
Helped him over the fence, no longer bound
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem