Although the world would call me free 
Each year the more her slave am I, 
For in her very way to be 
There's I don't know what, I don't know why. 

Already from the day we met 
Was my freedom mortal shot ? 
She's but a girl as they, and yet 
There's something more, I don't know what. 

No matter what we speak, or do, 
The moments in sweet silence fly, 
For somehow there is music too 
When she is mute, I don't know why. 

So likely to my dying day 
To follow her will be my lot, 
For in her sweet and candid way 
There's I don't know why, I don't know what. 

English version by   Corneliu M. Popescu

Transcribed by Vladut Bobolea
School No.10, Focsani, Romania
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