1. My song resounds with love again,
when the old day is dying;
it is sowing its shadows
and reaping a collections of pearls.
My song resonates with longing
while my feet roam distant lands.
My homeland is in the distant wilderness –
my song stirs with nationalism.
My song loudly resounds of love
while unplanned storms hasten.
I’m glad for the freedom that I no longer have
a portion in the dying of a brother.
2. Ah! How wonderfully my triangle sounds.
As a gypsy song when death is imminent –
the death of a gypsy brings an end
to song, dance, love and all concerns!
To song, dance, love and all concerns!
3. The wood is silent all around.
only the heart is disturbing the peace.
As if black smoke is flowing,
tears flow down my cheeks and so they dry.
They need not dry –
let other cheeks feel them.
The one who can in sorrow sing
will not die but lives and lives on.
4. Songs my mother taught me.
Strange that she often had tears in her eyes.
And now I also weep,
when I teach gipsy children to play and sing!
5. The strings are tuned, my lad, time to dance.
Today reach the heights, tomorrow down again and
after tomorrow, at the holy table of the Nile.
The taut string is stretched – turn young man – turn and twirl!
6. Wide sleeves and loose trousers better suit the gypsy.
more freedom than a robe of gold.
The robe of gold constricts the chest
and the song within the body dies.
He who is happy – his song blooms with wishes
that the whole world would lose its taste for gold.
7. Give the proud hawk a cage of pure gold.
the Gypsy would exchange it
for the freedom of a nest of thorns.
Just as a wild horse rushes to the wasteland,
seldom bridled and reined in,
so too the gypsy nature has been given eternal freedom.
1. Good night, my maiden!
May God guard your sleep!
May sweet dreams smile on you.
May God guard you and dream of me!
Dream this dream, gently, and soft.
When you awake, believe it to be true!
Dream of me and than i am yours alone.
Dream this dream, my love, dream that I am yours!
2. There was a girl she mowed the grass,
not far away from Temesvar;
the grass all mown, she bound it right,
called out to a bright young man:
“Hey lad, you from the other side,
come help me out with this bale of grass!”
Let your father or mother help you out,
as they’re loathe to let you be my wife.
As they still rocked you in the cradle,
already promised one day I’ll wed you;
as you were still herding geese,
you grew here in my heart.
3. Oh there is nothing left, nothing to please me,
oh there is nothing left, nothing at all.
What once did please me has gone with the water,
oh, there is nothing left, nothing at all.
They just keep giving me what I’m not looking for,
they just keep giving me what I don’t want.
They’ll give me a widower, a half of his heart’s gone,
oh there is nothing left, nothing at all.
Oh there is nothing left, nothing to please me,
oh there is nothing left, nothing at all!