(From Dluge)
Translated by John Buerfeind

In the morning the lad
Went early into the forest

Why did he want to be in the forest
So early?

There he broke off
Some small branches for himself.

Well then, he fenced in
A small vineyard

A little bird came flying
Into the small garden.

Did not pluck from the vine,
Not from the fine grapes.

I did not fly here
To pick at you grapes.


I’ve flown here,
To look at your young maiden.


No known music.