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Author: Subject: A. 270. The Town Bride
mersiowsky
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[*] posted on 9-5-2014 at 01:33 PM
A. 270. The Town Bride


(From: Lohsa)
Translated by Ed Bernthal

I am a Wendish girl
They call me Hanka
I must always sing and be happy
And work diligently.

Early the lark rises in the sky
I also rise out of bed
And go there for grass and clover
Singing with her about the world.

I go to the green meadow
Sharpen my sickle fine
And start fresh to cut
The grass among the flowers.

And I get my hands wet
In the dew of the meadow
So that my ring shines through the grass
In my wet hands.

I received the ring from my dearest
The nicest youth around here
In the mild evening sunshine
He always comes to see me.

In winter I spun for a shirt
Enough to make a canvass
Which I already finished for myself
Which I surely will need as a bride.

Even on the long evenings
I saved enough feathers
So my bed stands ready
In my room.

Then I selected my bride’s maids
From my local friends
Then I will made a wedding feast
That will last for three days.


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