"Go, my child, where the maidens spin

Within their chamber fair."

"Ah, mother, I dare not venture in,

For Kuris will be there."

"If he be there, you need not fear,

The young men will thee guard."

The judge's daughter, with glances clear,

Sits in the young men's ward.

Kuris Pista, indeed, was there,

And to the girl drew nigh,

His words he spoke with gracious air,

"The gay dance let us try."

"Oh, let me go, or I shall fall,

And in this place will die."

But Kuris heeded not her call,

And fire lit in his eye.

"Play, gypsy, play more loud and fast,

Play till your tight strings break.

Though feet may fail, the dance shall last

For the mad music's sake."

"Oh, let me go! Oh, let me go!

My treasure, let me loose,

The red blood from my heart does flow,

And fills my soaking shoes."

"I will not loose you till you die,

My treasure and my dove.

Not once but twelve times o'er have I

Been spurned in asking love."

"Oh, mother, open wide the gate,

Of your leaved garden thick,

The young men with a litter wait,

Bearing thy daughter sick.

"Oh, mother, open wide the gate,

Of your rose garden red,

The young men with a litter wait,

Bearing thy daughter dead."

Oh, sorrow has her father dear,

The mother a heartbreak.

They did not heed their daughter's fear

Her lover's rage to wake.

"Since you would not be mine,

No other shall you wed.

My blood shall flow with thine,

One mingled streamlet red.

Our bodies side by side

In one tomb close shall lie,

To God, the glorified

Our souls together fly."