Under the lime tree there in the moor,
there where our bed was,
you who pass by can see
how we broke flowers and grass.
In front of the forest the nightingale sang
br/>and she made a bed of flowers.
Whoever passes by will laugh,
look how red her mouth is.
Under the lime tree there in the moor
we broke flowers and grass,
you who pass by can see
where I laid my head.
If you know that she was with me
this will certainly never be shame,
she was the woman I wanted
to be called by my name.
Under the lime tree there in the moor
the briar embraces the lily,
you who pass by can see
/>how they grew up together.
She stayed with me only a year,
but then she braided her hair with gold
and left, I loved a sparrowhawk,
high up he rose and flew away.
Always chasing clouds
the wind and can never stop,
but beauty is even faster,
it is too slow for she is the wind.
This is how our life and the world are
like wind and cloud it flees away.

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