The boatman

Row, row, the wind has died,

the water is pure, the sky bright,

only a breath of peace

seems to cheer both sky and sea.

Row, row, sailor.

Now that everything smiles upon us,

in such a tender moment,

to the exhilaration of happiness

I want to abandon my soul.

Row, row, sailor.

Because if a storm should rage

and carry us both to our death,

it will be my happy fate

to die at your side.

Row, row, sailor.