I am a harmonica, specially designed by my tribe,
Hung permanently on her bosom
From her innocent maidenhood
To the end of her lonely life;
I am a harmonica, specially fashioned by my tribe,
That, by the grace of fate, lies sleeping close to her heart;
I am an instrument she uses to unleash her sorrows and joys
To the attentive darkness;
I am a harmonica, specially created by my tribe,
Prepared to keep her eternal company
If she should one day depart from this world
And commit all that I have to the icy soil;
But alas, my brother, if at the moonless midnight
You hear the woeful groans of this land
That's me still thinking of my beloved sylph
