Das zerbrochene Ringlein

In an airy valley a mill wheel turns around, my darling has forsaken me, whom at the mill I found. She promised to be true to me, gave me a ring thereto, she broke the faith she promised, the ringlet ... ... burst ... ... in two. As minstrel would I wander now in the world without, and sing my songs and ponder and roam ... ... from house ... ... to house. As horseman would I fly now into the bloody fight, lay by silent fires and fields ... ... on darkened ... ... night. I hear the mill wheel turn and turn, I know not ... ... what to will, ... I will that I was ... ... dying, ... then were ... ... everything ... ... still.