Stoke the woodstove Lenchen and put on water for
Coffee — The cat’s stretching out by the fire
— So Gertrude and Martin are finally getting married
The blind nightingale tried to sing
But the hooting scared him and he shook in his cage
That cypress yonder looks like the pope in state
Under the snow— The postman’s going to stop
To chat with the new schoolmaster
— This cold weather’s good for next year’s wine
— The deaf lame sacristan’s on his death-bed
— The mayor’s daughter’s embroidering a stole
For Father’s birthday Thanks to the wind
The forest sang somberly like a grand organ
The dream Herr Traum showed up with his sister Frau Sorge
Kæthi you’re doing a poor job of darning those socks
— Bring us some coffee some bread and butter
And marmalade and lard and a jug of milk
— A bit more coffee please Lenchen
— They say the wind speaks Latin
— A bit more coffee please Lenchen
— Lotte are you sad my dear— She’s in love I think
— God forbid— Me I don’t love anyone but myself
— Shush Grandma’s saying her rosary
—Get me some sugar Leni for my sore throat
—Pierre took his ferret out rabbit-hunting
The wind has all the fir trees dancing in a ring
Lotte love leaves you sad— Ilsa life’s sweet
Night fell The vineyard’s tangled vines
In the darkness turned into ossuaries
Shrouds lay creased and snowy
And dogs barked at freezing wayfarers
Listen he’s dead The church bell
Softly tolled the sacristan’s death
Lise stir the woodstove it’s going out
The women crossed themselves in the ambivalent night