A picture hangs on my room,
so close to heart of mine, deepest,
who´s depicted on it – is Lincoln,
he is speaking on it to the people.
Look, bend in the wind stormy lindens,
a tempest in October is loud
and there, in historical wind-fair
great Lincoln talks to the crowd.
Our Lincoln is speaking and watching:
worker´s mass there above him lies.
I watch from the window of picture
his pleasing, courageous eyes.