Letzte Hoffnung
Last Hope

Winterreise A Journey into Winter


Here and there on the trees
A last bright leaf is seen.
And often by the trees I stand
To think what might have been.

I look hard at that single leaf
And pin my hopes on it
And if the wind plays on my leaf
I tremble as in a fit.

For, if that leaf falls to the ground
My hopes fall with it too,
And I collapse onto the ground,
Shed tears of bitter rue.