Awakes in my bosom,
'You brisk winter breezes,
My thanks for your freshness!
I crave for your breath
As the sick man for water.'
My mind has grown clear, 20
To my knees I am falling:
'O Mother of Christ!
I beseech Thee to tell me
Why God is so angry
With me. Holy Mother!
No tiniest bone
In my limbs is unbroken;
No nerve in my body
Uncrushed. I am patient,--
I have not complained. 30
All the strength that God gave me
I've spent on my work;
All the love on my children.
But Thou seest all things,
And Thou art so mighty;
Oh, succour thy slave!'

"I love now to pray
On a night clear and frosty;
To kneel on the earth
'Neath the stars in the winter. 40
Remember, my brothers,
If trouble befall you,
To counsel your women