A mother once gave away her daughter,
far, far away from her,
she turned her away, banned her from her door:
come not to me, daughter!

I’ll become a bird, turn into a crane,
I’ll fly to my mother,
and in her garden there I’ll rest upon
a white lily flower.

Mother will come out: What bird see I there?
It sings so full of cheer,
as my dear daughter used to sing before,
when she lived here with us here.

Hey, shoo, fly away, my dear little crane,
harm the lilies no way,
if you harm them just a little, even,
then they will fade away.

It was a good thing you did, dear mother,
to plant a lily here,
but things are bad for me, my dear mother,
my husband I must fear.

Do not come, my daughter, do not come here
to bitterly complain;
since it was your wish, you, my daughter dear,
should not have married then.

I have not come here, o my dear mother,
to do your lilies harm,
but today I come, o my dear mother,
just to speak my lament.