From " Herr Mozart wacht auf" by Eva Barensky - Translation by the Grinning Cats

Death is a cold sister.

With icy fingers she clutches him, drags him, shakes him until she makes his teeth chatter.

Or maybe it is Sophie’s arms which grab him from the armpits, lift his frail body to allow Constanze to change the wet gown?

“Leave me!” he shouts, but his lips exhale only a weak moan.

How will he be able to accomplish what he has promised, if he’s not in condition to moan either?....

....Totally deprived of energy he lifts his eyelids up slowly and in the dim light he finds again the beloved dear face, lit up only by the reflection of many candles burning.

Death is a dark sister.

He’d like to touch Constanze’s face and in vain he stretches his arm.
He cannot reach her cheek, his body is a bar of lead, it doesn’t belong to him anymore.....

....By now he cannot understand the voices around him anymore, he hears only a faint whispering, as he has already gone.

Death is a silent sister.