She stood against the bay window

She stood against the bay window

And sadly plaited her hair:

The hunter had gone off,

The hunter who was her lover.

And when the Spring came,

The world all snowy from blossoms,

She took heart

And went into the green heathlands.

She put her ear to the ground,

And heard the throbbing of far-off hoofs -

They are the roebucks, grazing

On the shady mountain slope.

And in the evening when the forests rustle,

From afar, a shot is still only just heard.

She stands quite still to listen:

"That was my lover's greeting!"

The streams sprang out from the rocks,

And the little birds flitted into the valley.

"And if you meet him, my fine fellows,

O greet him for me a thousand times!"