Translated by Joel Meador

Little Margaret, she played in the sand so fine,
She threw out a little red apple.

It struck the unsuspecting wagon driver
Who was passing by to a distant foreign land.

Little Margaret, who enticed them to take her along
With her little red apple and her flattering words.

Little Margaret was foolish and not of sound mind,
She followed these people off to a distant land.

They had gone a little bit farther
When they arrived at Niedergurig and went swiftly to the inn.

“Oh, Hostess, bring us a small mug of beer,
A small mug of beer and a small glass of wine.

“Oh, Waitress, do you not have a little girl
That you yourself must carry everything?

“We want you to sell it, little Margaret,
We want them to spend their money on beer and wine.”

Then they had disappeared probably seven years.
And a horseman suddenly came riding in.

The innkeeper filled the little mug,
And little Margaret carried it in.

The rider, who spoke eloquently to the innkeeper:
“Oh, Innkeeper, lovely hostess of mine,

I’m going to sleep with your little Margaret today!”
The hostess made the little bed,

Besides that she dressed up little Margaret.
Consequently little Margaret began to cry,

So that her radiance was obliterated and faded away.
As now half the night had passed,

The rider subsequently asked little Margaret:
“Whose are you, little Margaret, so lovely and pretty,
That you do not want to sleep with me?”

“Are you not the little waitress of the house?
Are you not here just to serve, little girl?”

“The innkeeper, he is not your real father?
His wife is not your real mother?”

“The innkeeper has never been my father,
His wife has never been my mother.”

“So, tell us then, little Margaret, who are you?”
“My father, Kainfaler, is far away from here.

“And if your father is now Kainfaler,
Little Margaret, you are my youngest little sister.”

“I have already been riding from place to place for seven years,
Seven years of disgrace for me riding horseback,
Until I see you here, now I have found my little sister.”

“What are we going to give as thanks to the innkeepers?”
“Don’t we now want to cut off their heads?”

“Why is that so important, oh, brother of mine?
She has brought me up so well.”

“She bought me from the terrible wagon master,
And she taught me the ways of right and wrong.”

“To not only pay for something with money,
But also to express my thanks, and honor my obligations with a handshake.”

“Stand up, Mother, and allow me to enter your home,
I’m bringing to you my lovely bride-to-be.”

“What do I care about your lovely bride-to-be,
If I am going to be worth nothing more to you.”

“She is not really, Mother, my lovely fiancé,
She is really my lovely youngest sister.”

The old mother opened her hands in haste,
And lovingly grasped little Margaret’s hands in hers.


Attachment: The Awakening Sister.mp3 (1MB)
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Those are quite interesting lyrics. My goodness. My goodness indeed.