Like that, when the sun
From the splendour of Heaven
May cast a chance ray
In the depths of the forest: 170
The dew shines like diamonds,
The mosses are gilded.

"Drink, drink, little peasants!
Disport yourselves bravely!"
'Twas gay beyond measure.
In each breast awakens
A wondrous new feeling,
As though from the depths
Of a bottomless gulf
On the crest of a wave, 180
They've been borne to the surface
To find there awaits them
A feast without end.

Another pail's started,
And, oh, what a clamour
Of voices arises,
And singing begins.

And just as a dead man's
Relations and friends
Talk of nothing but him 190
Till the funeral's over,
Until they have finished
The funeral banquet