Silesian Forests

Thou art as I, Silesian Forests! Sorrow clings to thy trunks and crests; You look depressed and you look severe, Just as my thoughts and my songs appear. Spine falls from thee in the night and the mist, Tears of a race in subjection list.

Fallen art thou by the ax at Vienna’s wish, Slowly you perish, peacefully you perish, Silently perish, thou pine forest sea, Endless, Silesian sorrows are ye.