Girls went strawberrying one day, 
followed the river all the way. 

The ferryman there they found, 
a fine dashing fellow indeed. 

O dear Johnny, my ferryman, 
do take us across, my dear John. 

He ferried the girls, one by one, 
but left his loved one on her own. 

O, dear Johnny, please take me too, 
like the rest, I’ll pay you your due. 

I have no boat, oars have I none, 
They’ve all been washed away, they’re gone!

You have an oar, you have a boat; 
I know you’re just acting the goat. 

Come on, get in the boat, my dear, 
I’ll take you across, never fear. 

When he had got but half-way over, 
he started importuning her. 

Don’t take such liberties; desist; 
just row me across, I insist. 

As soon as they had rowed across 
he threw her out into the grass, 

chopped off her legs, chopped off her arms, 
then he gouged out both her dark eyes. 

He left her there, went a half-mile, 
then listened: was she living still? 

The fish-trap sang, and it did wail, 
and Johnny heard its plaintive call.

Oh my dear heart, my darling John, 
my legs, my legs, where have they gone? 

Your lovely legs, right there they lie, 
in Danubian fields near by. 

The fish-trap wailed, and it sang on, 
Oh my dear heart, my darling John, 
my arms, my arms, where have they gone? 

Oh my dear heart, my darling John,
my eyes, my eyes, where have they gone? 

Oh my dear heart, my darling John, 
my hair, my hair, where has it gone? 

On the Danube’s waves all around, 
your dark hair’s blown wild by the wind.