(From the girls of Burk)
Translated by John Buerfeind

Around the castle is a walk way,
The wedding procession moves along on it.

With noise, with clanking
They look at pretty girls.

Nightingale, the small bird,
Flies to its master and complains about its troubles.

They destroyed my nest,
And have taken away my young ones.

I’ve told you before:
Don’t build your nest on the path.

Build your nest in the maple tree,
In the maple tree, on the branch.

Lead your young ones out of there,
Bring them to me under my window.

I will select only one of them,
The one that sings the best.

The oldest always sings the best,
This one is sitting at my window.

Early in the morning it shall shout
My mistress, my servant.

Serving up the first meal,
The bride begins to ask.

The bride wants to know,
Where the dear groom is?

Serving up the second meal,
The bride asks for the second time.

The bride wants to know again,
Where the dear groom is?

Serving up the third meal,
The bride begins to weep.

The bride begins to weep wanting to know,
Where the dear groom is?

The groom is roaming through the forest,
Prowling for and hunting game.

Hunting and choking game,
He’s preparing for the wedding.



Attachment: The Weeping Bride.mp3 (1.2MB)
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