Das zerbrochene Ringlein
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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.