Graze, my sheep, on the plain,
On the good grass of Lorraine,
My beautiful white sheep.

Near me, as is customary,
Do not fear either the wolf nor its nuisance,
My dear white sheep.

Here the Shepherd is unfamiliar with tears
Just as are the captains of my men-at-arms,
My beautiful white sheep.

Is there anything else but Love and Hope
Under the blue sky of sweet France,
My dear white sheep?

There, in the shade beneath the old beech tree, in the ladies' bowers,
It is so good to sit
Until the hour when the wind comes to sing me the melodies
Of the evening's Angelus.

Spin, my distaff,
Graze, my white flock,
Spin, my distaff,
Sleep my beautiful lamb!