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Senta, my child, I fancied in my arms I held, When of a sudden changeth the wind, And blew a gale, as if in league with Satan’s power; But now the worst is past, and its fury The storm hath spent in fitful blasts.
When from the South it blew a gale That drove me to this rocky shore, I did at first my fate bewail; But now I wail and grieve no more. I praise the wind that drove me here, For here I met a lucky fate, For here I found a treasure dear: A rich man with my child to mate! He who with treasure sails the sea, Shall welcome to my daughter be! Südwind! Südwind! Ach! lieber Südwind, blas’ noch mehr!