(From: Langfoerstchen)
Translated by Ed Bernthal

The cow maid let the cows out
The magistrate’s wife stood at the door step so fine.

She had her little son in the apron
The cow maid handed her an apple.

A nice red white apple
But she had quickly put a deadly poison into it.

The cow maid drove out her cows.
The magistrate’s wife lay in deathly pain.

The cow maid milked the cows.
The magistrate’s wife was laid into the casket.

The magistrate’s wife lay in the bier so fine.
The magistrate went whistling in and out.

The magistrate’s wife was lowered into the grave.
The cow maid sang a lusty line.

Don’t be so happy, cow maid.
You are not going to be a magistrate’s wife.

They all went to the wedding
There the magistrate’s little son called out,

‘You want to be my mother.
Yes, it was you who murdered my mother.’



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