The Illova prison is paved with stone

The prison of Illova is paved with stone, ; But many mothers walk there crying. ; Don't cry, my mother, it has to be that way, ; In every good family there has to be a bad one. ; ; My dear brothers, but you are unfaithful, ; You don't even visit my heavy captivity. ; I will go home, I will not be a prisoner, ; I will thank the goodness of my parents. ; ; The wind howls, howls, through the cemetery, ; There my baby lies in a grave alone. ; I stand there quietly, alas, my heart aches, ; When no one sees, I cry bitterly.