(from Kunnewiz)
Translated by H. Melvin Symmank

Dear one, this is not the last time,
That I go home with you from a beer.

Wind, my young girl, for you a wreath,
Wind it of all sorts of carnations in it for you.

Wind it of all sorts of carnations in it for you,
Wind it of all sorts of grasses in it for you.

You wind within it for you red carnations,
Remember our joyous time of youth.

So as the carnations in living red
Blooms the love in the youth.

You wind within it colorful carnations,
Remember how various the conditions are.

Just as the carnations are variegated and colorful
So also various are the conditions.

You wind within for you the white carnations,
Remember the virgin innocent and pure.

Just as the carnations are lovely and white
So also the virgin is innocent and pure.

'If, my dearest, your desire is that,
I accompany you there over the hill.'

'Over the hill, through the valley,
Going then further the steep way.'

'I will now take my leave from you
Take my departure with a white hand.'

'I will a devout virgin remain,
A devout virgin until I die.'


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