Around the graveyard
A path so broad
A young, beautiful widow
Walked here, to God
She wept, she mourned
For her husband, she yearned
For this was the last path
Where his presence, she earned
From the white manor
Across the meadow, so grand
A handsome lad rides
Feather in his hand
One day she wept
The next passed in quiet
On the third, her grief
Slowly lost its riot
Don't cry, don't lament
Young, beautiful widow
Your eyes are too precious
Hear a wise word, follow
Don't cry, don't lament
Widow, beautiful rose
And if your husband has died
Take me as your spouse
On the same day of his death
She let him out of her mind
Before a month had passed
She was sewing her wedding bind
Around the graveyard
A path, now filled with pride
Here they ride, here they ride
The groom and his bride
Don't cry, don't lament
Young, beautiful widow
Your eyes are too precious
Hear a wise word, follow
Don't cry, don't lament
Widow, beautiful rose
And if your husband has died
Take me as your spouse
Times are running, running
Everything changes with them
What was not, will come
What was, is no more
Times are running, running
A year like an hour
One thing, however, does not disappear
Guilt stands firm, like a tower