In the Black Forest, in the Black Forest
In the Black Forest, in the Black Forest,
Where the streams are bright
Falling out of the clefts of rock,
Under moosbehang’nen pines
Kidding joke,
Where in the forest the blueberries
Some red mouths blacken,
And the mouths can sing,
Through the valleys you can hear it,
Can all sorts of things
And especially there is
Such a sweet little one
Cherry Mouth, such a fine,
And I have it – but still, I say
No more spice, who also ask.
Franz von Woringen