(from Milstrich)
Translated by H. Melvin Symmank

Where the clear water flows,
There always awaits my love.
On my account,
Because of you,
Out of the land, out of the land,
Out of the land I must go.

Where the bright sun shines,
There always awaits my love.
Good night,
A thousand times,
If we can, If we can,
If we cannot free us.

Young girl do you think on the words,
Which to each other once spoke,
On my account,
Because of you,
Out of the land, out of the land,
Out of the land I must go.

Under the apple tree in the garden,
There spoke one to another thus:
Good night,
A thousand times,
If we can, If we can,
If we cannot free us.

There I must (go) from my land
Into the distant, foreign land.
On my account,
Because of you,
Out of the land, out of the land,
Out of the land I must go.

When I should return from there
I desire it not without you.
Good night,
A thousand times,
If we can, If we can,
If we cannot free us.