excerpt Ewe-lamb, small and pretty,For her sake have pity,Let it just be saidI have gone to wedA princes most nobleThere on Heaven's doorsill. To that mother, old,Let it not be toldThat a star fell, bright,For my bridal night.Firs and maple treesWere my guests. My priestsWere the mountains high.Fiddlers, birds that fly,All birds of the sky.Torchlights, stars on high. English version by W. D. SNODGRASS
by Anonymous