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Wiewohl mein Schatz ein arger Wicht, Ein Räuber ist, ein Dieb, So hab' ich doch sein Angesicht Vor allen andern lieb, Er raubt für mich, er kämpft, er ficht, Drum hab' ich ihn so lieb, Und wär' er zehenmal ein Wicht Und hundertmal ein Dieb.
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View text with all available footnotesConfirmed with Gesammelte Werke des Grafen August von Platen, Dritter Band, Stuttgart und Augsburg: J.G. Cotta'scher Verlag, 1856, page 207.
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This text was added to the website: 2011-06-13
Line count: 8
Word count: 47
Although my beloved is a terrible scoundrel, A robber he is, a thief, I nevertheless love his visage More than any other; He steals for me, he fights, he fences, That is why I love him so, And were he ten times a scoundrel And a hundred times a thief.
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This text was added to the website: 2020-12-23
Line count: 8
Word count: 52
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