(From Elisabeth Deschan in Burk)
Translated by John Buerfeind

Under the acacias
The swells would like to walk.
And you can find beautiful girls
Always under the lime trees:
In Berlin, in Berlin,
When the trees bloom again.

Under the lime trees here and there
I’ve seen many a park bench,
Large gentlemen and small gentlemen,
Big fools and little fools,
In Berlin, in Berlin,
When the trees bloom again.

In the winter it is cold,
For many love grows old.
One after another peeks
And nervously dodges and crouches:
In Berlin, in Berlin,
When the trees bloom again.

Everything has it’s moment there,
Strangers arrive all the time,
Who go to dance and to play,
There is much to laugh at:
In Berlin, in Berlin,
When the trees bloom again.

Mother says: "My dear man,
Look, the little girl is growing,
And the boy is showing a beard,
See, that’s the way it goes:
In Berlin, in Berlin,
When the trees bloom again."

The lovers go there nicely
Together or alone,
Squeeze hands until they hurt,
Kiss each other tenderly on the mouth:
In Berlin, in Berlin,
When the trees bloom again.

And then the pleasant time arrives,
When the watchman comes and hollers,
At which time we silently go home,
And everyone asks, where is my house?
In Berlin, in Berlin,
When the trees bloom again.


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