A rosemary sprig trembles in the ditch
Song
1. A rosemary branch trembles in the ditch, ; My mother cries, they are taking me to be a soldier. ; There is nothing greater than the fir tree, ; There is nothing greater than a mother's curse. ; ; 2. My mother cursed me, ; That I would have neither country nor homeland. ; Let a rose bush be my lodging, ; Let my stay there not be long.