Down there on the border of Szendrei

Down there on the border of Szendre, ; A large poplar tree has blossomed by itself. ; Under the poplar tree the flute plays beautifully, ; Let the Baron of Szendre listen to it. ; ; The bedroom window opened, ; The noble young lady looks out through it. ; The great-granddaughter sighed to herself, ; Why did I become the daughter of Baron Szendre. ; ; Baron Szendre harnesses his six horses, ; He searches for the shepherds' farm. ; He asks the shepherd's accountant, ; Has he not seen his dear daughter. ; ; My lord Baron, I confess the truth, ; My boy has been there for three days. ; My boy has been there for three days, ; The noble young lady is with him too. ; ; Baron Szendre chooses that tree, ; Where they will hang the shepherd's boy. ; The wind blows his shirt, his linen trousers, ; Because he loved his dear daughter. ; ; I dare not walk along the main street, ; Because they say I wear black mourning. ; Black mourning, my handkerchief is snow-white, ; My first lover was a shepherd boy.