Translation (dark, Mournful Clouds Hang O'er The Sun)

Dark, mournful clouds hang o'er the sun,
Lights gleam portentous in the air,
And yet who knows? This troubled heart
Still gives not up to blank despair.

Not big with shipwrecks every storm,
That sweeps the bosom of the main,
Nor does the threatening, turbid sky,
Always the thunder-bolt contain.