THE MILLER’S TEARS

Oh, how many years have gone by,

Since I am miller here?

The wheels (of the mill) are turning,

The years are passing,

I’m already old and gray.

There are days when I try to remember,

If I ever had a bit of luck.

The wheels are turning,

The years are passing,

No [bad word] back to me.

I have heard them say,

they want to drive me,

From the town and from the mill,

The wheels are turning,

The years are passing,

Without an end and without a goal.

Where will I live?

Who will look after of me?

I’m already old,

I’m already tired.T

he wheels are turning

The years are passing,

And together with them,

the Jew is dying.