(From: Schmekwiz)
Translated by Ed Bernthal

‘Tailor, sew the little coat,
And rock the little girl with your feet.’

‘Then when the little girl will be grown up,
She will be, my tailor, also yours.’

The tailor sewed a fine little coat
While rocking the little girl with his feet.

The tailor went away to the war,
Till seven years had passed.

Seven years he was in the war.
Then the tailor left the war and came home.

Right away he traipsed over to the tavern hostess,
Into the hostess’ new yard.

“God be with you! God be with you, my hostess!
Tell me where is your little daughter?”

‘My little daughter is not at home.
My little daughter is raking oats at the Heim.’

The youth turned his horse,
And went straight to the Heim.

“God be with you! God be with you, little girl!
Do you need some help raking the oats?”

‘It was mowed without you,
And without you it will be raked together.’

“Don’t talk so proudly, little girl
You were promised me already when you were small.”

The girl threw down the sickle and the rake,
And right away went home to her mother.

‘O Mother, what did you do,
That you promised him when I was so small?’

“Quiet down, and don’t cry, daughter.
We can redeem you for money quite well.”

The old father counted out the money,
So much that the table bent under its weight.

Dollar pieces so thick and so heavy,
Plus several French gold pieces.

The tailor took in the money,
And poured it into his bushel basket.

‘Your money I love to have.
But I would rather have had your daughter.’

‘The money I will just waste in drink.
But I will never forget your daughter!’



Attachment: The Tailor's Claim.mp3 (1.2MB)
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