Lyrics of Lasarettvisan - Maritza Horn

Lasarettvisan (original)

I en sal p lasarettet
Dr de vita sngar str
Lg en liten brstsjuk flicka
Blek och trd med lockigt hr
Allas hjrtan vann den lilla
Dr hon lg s mild och god
Bar sin smrta utan klagan
Med ett barnsligt tlamod
S en dag hon frgade lkaren
Som vid hennes sida stor
Fr jag komma hem till psken
Till min egen lilla mor
Lkaren svara d den lilla
Nej mitt barn det fr du ej
Men till pingsten kan det hnda
Du fr komma hem till mor
Pingsten kom med grna bjrkar
Blomsterkldd str mark och ng
Men den lilla sjuka flickan
Lg dr stndigt I sin sng
S p nytt hon frgade lkaren
Som vid hennes sida str
Fr jag komma hem till hsten
Till min egen lilla mor
Lkaren svarade ej den lilla
Men strk sakta hennes hr
Och med trar I sitt ga
Vnder han sig om och gr
Nu hon slumrar uti mullen
Slumrar stt I snvit skrud
Frn sin tligt burna vntan
Har hon farit upp till gud

(translation)

In a hall at the hospital
Dr de vita sngar str
Lay a little breast-sick girl
Pale and thread with curly hair
Everyone's heart won the little one
There she lay so gentle and kind
Carried his pain without complaint
With a childish tlamod
Then one day she asked the doctor
Which by her side great
Before I get home for Easter
To my own little mother
The doctor answers the little one
No, my child, you will not
But for Pentecost it can happen
You have to come home to mother
Pentecost came with green birches
Flower-clad str ground and ng
But the little sick girl
Lie there constantly in your bed
Then again she asked the doctor
As by her side str
Before I come home for the fall
To my own little mother
The doctor did not answer the little one
But slowly her hair
And with you I trot his ga
He turns around and leaves
Now she is dozing off in the dust
Snooze stt In snowy attire
From his tligt borne vntan
Has she ascended to god