There is a mill in Kismartos, they grind sorrows on that czuhajja

1. There is a mill in Kismartos, they grind sorrow on it, czuhajja, ; I also have a sorrow, I will go and shoot, czuhajja. ; In the fall the tea rose fell, my lover left me, ; If another one leaves me, I will not grieve for long. ; ; 2. There is a woman in my neighborhood, she has a beautiful curly hair, ; The wind blows her curly hair, tosses it from right shoulder to left shoulder. ; I was her baby too, alas, but I have walked a lot after her, ; The icy rain still beats down, washes her curly hair smooth.