Oh, Falada, I see you hanging there,
With your foggy eyes following my footings frail...
Oh, Falada, spectating with a silent stare,
As you witness the weaving wonders of a fairytale.

Can't you see me getting robbed of my royalty and relief,
As I silently sob in my scarlet stained handkerchief?

When I'm drowning in my own despondency,
Or...