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Es fiel ein Reif in der Frühlingsnacht Wohl über die schönsten Blaublümelein, Sie sind verwelket, verdorret. Ein Knabe hatt' ein Mägdlein lieb, Sie liefen heimlich von Hause fort, Es wusst es nicht Vater, noch Mutter. Sie liefen weit ins fremde Land, Sie hatten weder Glück, noch Rast, Sie waren verdorben, gestorben. Auf ihrem Grabe Blaublümlein blühn, Umschlingen sich fest, wie sie im Grab, Der Reif sie nicht welket, nicht dorret.
See also Backer-Grøndahl's song, which uses some of this text.
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This text was added to the website between May 1995 and September 2003.
Line count: 12
Word count: 84
A frost descended in the springtime night, It fell upon the most beautiful little blue flowers, They wilted, they withered. A lad loved a maiden; They fled secretly from their home, Neither father nor mother knew it. They ran far into a foreign land, They had neither good fortune nor rest, They perished, they died. Upon their grave bloom little blue flowers That embrace each other tightly, as do the two in the grave, The frost does not wilt them, does not wither them.
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This text was added to the website: 2022-08-31
Line count: 12
Word count: 95
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