mersiowsky - 11-28-2014 at 10:28 AM
(from Anton and from Burk)
Translated by H. Melvin Symmank
A horseman rode through the forest,
Rode on through the green forest.
He found nothing on his ride
Except only a small field garden.
Two beautiful girls are in the garden,
One as beautiful as the other.
One sews a fine cloth,
The other weaves a small crown.
She who sows the fine cloth,
She will be my dear sweetheart.
She who weaves the little crown,
Will be my dear companion.
As he took the horse by the bridle,
He took the hand of the girl.
'Do not now move from this place,
Until you promise to be mine.
"When a rose blooms in the winter time,
Rider, then will I be yours.
No roses bloom in winter time,
Also I will never be yours.
The horseman turns his horse around,
He rode on to a painter.
'Painter, dear painter mine!
Draw for me now two roses.
'Paint the one for me fine red,
Paint the other for me veiled white.
The painter painted two roses,
The girl saw from a distance.
The horseman paid for the roses,
The maid cried from a distance.
'See, two roses here, dear child,
Are beautiful blooms even in winter.
"Nevermore do they bloom in winter,
Which the painter has painted.
'If the painter had painted you
Yet are you blooming in winter.
"What have I done poor maid?
I have been joking with the horseman
"I have been joking with the horseman,
That I now through a joke must be his.
There is no music for this song.