What chatters then the little bird,
On the oak tree above?
It sings, that every maid in love
Looks pale and wan from love.
My little bird, thou speak’st not true,
A lie hast thou now said;
For see, I am a maid in love,
And am not pale, but red.
Take care, my bird; because thou liest,
I now must punish thee;
I take this gun, I load this gun,
And shoot thee from the tree.
.mw-parser-output .wst-floatright{float:right;text-indent:0}Translated by Talvj
Flowing waters meet each other,
And the winds, they blow and blow;
Sweetheart with her bright blue eyes
Stands and looks from her window.
Do not stand so at the window,
Rather come before the door;
If thou giv’st me two sweet kisses,
I will give thee ten and more.
Translated by Talvj
Little star with gloomy shine,
If thou couldst but cry!
If thou hadst a heart, my star,
Sparks would from thee fly,
Just as tears fall from mine eye.
All the night with golden sparks
Thou wouldst for me cry!
Since my love intends to wed,
Only ’cause another maid
Richer is than I.
Translated by Talvj