One dewy morning -
a dewy morning in June as the sun woke up,
just as the sun woke up the rain came falling.
The rain came falling so heavily,
the water poured down the green leaves in the trees,
those gusty old trees.

The skies so dark - oh so grey and dark!
As the rain came falling, as the wind grew stronger,
the thunder started to roar afar off,
and the lightening flashing right in front of us.
A morning like this one might roll over in bed,
and go back to sleep.

As the rain poured down the green leaves in the trees,
those gusty old trees,
a lonesome figure came riding down that muddy road.
For him going back to sleep was no option,
this rainy morning, this grey wet morning,
for he was to see his love, his sweet, sweet love.

Oh no, he didn't mind the rain at all -
for what did some water matter - when he was to see his love?
What did the mud matter when his love was to see him?
He rode on - he rode all day in this rain - in this pouring rain -
as if the sun shined stronger than never before.
He must hurry for the road is very long and oh so muddy!

One clear evening -
one dark night lit up by stars,
a woman in her bed lay, thinking,
about her love that went off to war some two years ago.
Seven months ago, his last letter came,
none he had written, none he had answered since then.

One dark night lit up by stars,
she, for the sake of her sorrow,
let her blood squirt out the window.
Her blood poured down the green leaves in the trees,
those gusty old trees,
so that she again would meet her love.

One dewy morning -
a dewy morning in June as the sun woke up,
just as the sun woke up the rain came falling,
a rain so heavy that the water poured down the leaves,
washing her blood away.
The skies so dark - oh so grey and dark!

At evening this rainy day a lonesome rider came,
happily whistling for he was to see his love,
his sweet, sweet love,
the love he had left two years ago
for he had to go to war.
But finally he had come home to her!

He found her, lying on the ground, in the mud.
In despair he rushed to his love,
his sweet, sweet love, for he couldn't believe it.
He kissed the lips that had last uttered:
Together, my love, we shall once again be.
Her voice echoed in the gusty old trees.

He rose, leaving his love in the mud.
Staggering he unsheathed his knife,
and cried his last curse at the world.
Together, my love, we shall once again be, he sobbed,
and thrust his knife deep in his heart,
so that he once again could be together with his love.