Little daisy, white as snow,
To delight me as I tread,
From the roadside dust you grow,
Lifting up your pretty head.
Under sorrow's weight I groaned;
Your sweet flower healed my sore.
In the world I'm not alone,
Not an orphan any more.
Poverty seems to be gone,
Gone the pain, and life seems worth
Living – not like exile on
This dark, melancholy earth.
With sunshine you filled my heart,
And I walk along, made bold
By the song bereft of art
You left singing in my soul.
Translated by Dorian Rottenberg