Angel

I am standing on the old bridge,
In the dark night I am waiting for my Angel,
Like an orphan to horrible solitude.
If I knew what heavenly paths the Angel is flying,
I would let go of my tired soul
To fly the heavenly paths,
So that my name might be close to an Angel.
I know all the old bridges
In the dark streets of this world.
Yes, destiny, you have revealed that secret to me
When I first opened my eyes,
When the big and clear eyes of the child looked so vivaciously
Into the clear, big mother's tear.

I have long since known how to find the face of a pauper in the dark,
I know the dark paths of every dream,
I know the name of every tear,
I know the birthplace of every sorrow.
In many a shadow I am looking for a savior,
As if I was but a fly
Trapped in the silky web of solitude;

I am standing on the old bridge,
Looking for the heavenly dome's reflection in the dark river,
To place my tired soul in the heavenly cradle.
Many nights have shrouded the river in silence,
Oh, powerful destiny, many unfortunates
Have found their black hearse in the river,
Many dark nights have carried away wonderful souls
On a road of no return,
But still I am not losing the hope
That my tired soul shall touch the silver wings,
That my Angel shall arrive before lonely fraternal eyes
Recognize my face in the dark river.