Up there on the mountain, in a high-up house,
 a lovely, darling girl looks out of the window.
 She does not live there:
 she is the daughter of the innkeeper,
 and she lives on the green meadow.

 [ And he who would have her
 would find a thousand thalers,
 but he would have to swear 
 never to have wine again
 to have her father's property. ]2

 "My heart is sore! [bad word]  my treasure, make it well again!
 Your dark brown eyes
 have wounded me.

 Your rosy mouth
 makes hearts healthy.
 It makes youth wise,
 brings the dead to life,
 gives health to the ill."

 Who has thought up this pretty little song then?
 It was brought over the water by three geese -
  two grey and one white -
 and if you cannot sing the little song,
 they will whistle it for you!