I am a cuckoo and I remain a cuckoo
And I let myself be called cuckoo,
I make myself known to those
Who cannot remember my name.
 
In the winter I am in the forest,
In the summer upon green meadows;
My heart has its sojourn there
By beautiful shepherdesses.
 
When my little sheep upon the heath
Graze in green valleys,
Then I have my joy and delight
And seat myself upon green grass
 
And cry with bright voice: Cuckoo,
That it resounds into the meadows,
And call out to the most beautiful shepherdess
That she may sing something for me.
 
In a nutshell, that is how it is going to stay,
I shall remain a cuckoo
And to the shepherdess I dedicate
Anew my faithfulness in love.
 
Until finally the birds’ death comes
And batters my limbs:
May God protect you, my shepherdess
Until I return once more!