the cowherd maiden leads her cows
to graze upon the pasture.
cowherd maiden, lead no cows
to pasture now or after.
cowherd maiden, your gentle cows,
a plague upon their hides,
for woodland bears on the prowl
will split your gentle sides,
will wring, will wrench, will unrefine
your redly flowing blood,
such that now, should i you find,
while wandering by the wood,
would never say this face was yours,
what has he done, i rue,
you never will be, nor were,
my love, fair and true,
a lowly shepherd boy am i,
bears are far from few,
reality’s a pliant thing and
hear my song to you,
cowherd maiden cowherd maiden
cowherd maiden cowherd
maiden cowherd maiden cowherd
maiden cowherd maiden