I run through the door, distressed as all hells
I approach the counter, I ask and she tells
me, "room 14B", and her words I follow
and I traverse at once the corridor's hollow
There I meet doctors and nurses, guardians of life
who daily must endure the hustle, the strife
They tell me what happened, I enter the room
and there my wife I see in sorrow and gloom
wherefore the suff'ring must have befallen
my darling who, with life swollen,
has been waiting and waiting so long
I know not the words to relieve the tension
with the child's life's swift apprehension
to thee lost I offer, my darling, this song