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A dream I dreamed last night,
a little dream of my soul,
I dreamed of my beloved ones,
that within my arms I held.
I saw a lady enter, so white,
whiter than the coldest snow.
—“Through where hast thou entered, love?
How hast thou come into my life?
The doors are all locked,
the windows and lattices closed.”
—“I am not Love, my lover;
I am Death, whom God now sends.”
—“Ah, Death, so rigorous,
let me live but for one day!”
—“One day cannot be granted,
one hour only thou hast.”
Full swiftly he put on his shoes,
more swiftly still he dressed;
he goes already to the street,
to where his true love lived.
—“Open the door to me, fair one,
open the door to me, my girl!”
—“How could I open for thee,
if the time is not yet come?
My father has not gone to court,
my mother is not asleep.”
—“If thou dost not open tonight,
then nevermore wilt thou open;
for Death is searching for me,
and by thy side life would be.”
—“Go then beneath my window,
where I was spinning, sewing;
I will throw thee a silken cord
that thou may climb above,
and if the cord should not suffice,
my braids I too would add.”
Now he climbs up by the cord,
he is already at the rail!
But the fine silk breaks asunder,
and like lead he fell below...
There was Death awaiting him,
down upon the frozen earth.
—“Come now, my lover, come,
for thy hour is fulfilled.”