White orchid, my beautiful white orchid,
where have you innocently bloomed?

   ,, In the garden of dreams, but you picked
me up and gave me to a blue lady ,,

White orchid, my beautiful white orchid,
why are you now all yellow and drooped?

   **,, Because you forgot me when you saw
two white orchids only blooming in her eyes ,,

My true love and I
did meet
Down in the lavender garden
Long ago,
Oh, so long ago
When he told me to close my eyes
and listen to his lullaby.

My velvet dreams
were carried across the
melancholy air and finally found rest
in the same old lavender blue.
When he told me that only
in midsummer would the lavender bloom
just for me

My true love and I were deadly shades
in the night and caressed each other lovingly
Until my true love dropped off to sleep...

Once, I can't remember,
I was innocent but so full of pain
While one midsummer's eve
I did met the fair  Rose-red.

My old mother did not fancy,
she sobbed and wept all night long,
but my passion continued to spark
as I constantly whispered ,, Rose-red,,

So my home of wood I kindly fled,
no longer a roof to shelter my poor head,
but gladly I spent my youthful days
with the cheerful Rose-red.

In the morning,  song of nightingale
made her charming face to glow
while her strawberry lips sang
,, My love, see how so blissful is your Rose-red ,,

But alas, the cry of the violin was heard too soon,
as I peacefully am now sinking before the early tide
And from the Heavenly kingdom i do beseech
-Mercy, oh sweet mercy- for my Rose-red.

Now that the sun has set behind the far pines,
and only the stars accompany my deep mourning,
there is no one else by my side
to help me bury Rose-red.

My long black cloak was envied by the night
which sent me a gentle autumn breeze,
as I pressed my soiled hands upon the wooden coffin
and only whispered ,, Oh, my poor Rose-red ,,

And tonight within this cursed hour,
I too shall be sleeping above the cold stone,
for there is no tender lullaby than the roses that stirred
around the grave of my dearest Rose-red...

Sailing through the
midnight sky,
Sailing through the
midnight sea,
in a boat of moon.

Fishing for my dream,
so far
Fishing for my dream,
so near
My rope - a single moonbeam
and my bait- one silver star

My Soul, there is a country
Afar beyond the stars,
Where stands a winged sentry
All skillful in the wars;
There, above noise and danger
Sweet Peace sits, crown’d with smiles,
And One born in a manger
Commands the beauteous files.
He is thy gracious friend
And (O my Soul awake!)
Did in pure love descend,
To die here for thy sake.
If thou canst get but thither,
There grows the flow’r of peace,
The rose that cannot wither,
Thy fortress, and thy ease.
Leave then thy foolish ranges,
For none can thee secure,
But One, who never changes,
Thy God, thy life, thy cure.