In the shadow of my tresses

In the shadow of my tresses

My beloved has fallen asleep.

Shall I awaken him now? Ah, no!

Carefully I comb my ruffled

Locks, early every day;

Yet for nothing is my trouble,

For the wind makes them dishevelled yet again.

The shadows of my tresses, the whispering of the wind,

Have lulled my darling to sleep.

Shall I awaken him now? Ah, no!

I must listen to him complain

That he pines for me so long,

That life is given and taken away from him

By this, my brown cheek,

And he calls me a snake;

Yet he fell asleep by me.

Shall I awaken him now? Ah, no!