Someone is crying by the rocky road

Someone is crying by the cobblestone road, ; Maybe it's my baby, she's looking for her oxen. ; Don't look, don't look, because they're driven in, ; The bell on it rings at the judge in Gyula. ; ; I recognize the bell, I had it in my hand, ; I bought it at the Gyula fair for my oxen. ; The price is a hundred pengő, my baby is its owner, ; Her name is carved on it in golden letters.