Hand in Hand/At Star-Rise

by Alice MacDonald Fleming

ECHOES OF ROUMANIAN FOLK SONG

At Star-Rise

THE night comes fast, I hear the oxen chewing,
The stars are very white and very little.
My mother cries "Come, girl, spin off thy distaff."

 

Before I fill my pitcher
I stoop to ask the water,
Whether my face be fair,
I know my eyes are shining,
I see my lips are crimson,
I hear my silver necklace
Make music round my throat.
But it is nothing to him, he cares not:
The maize is golden in the sunshine,
My hair is golden in the sunshine,
He looks at the maize!

I have a keepsake, but not one that he gave me.
A little flower, a withered flower, I wear it in my breast:

But he did not give it to me, his hand has not touched it,
Only his foot has touched it.
He trod on it and broke it,
The flower is like my heart,

The night comes fast, I hear the oxen chewing,
The stars are very white and very little,
My mother cries "Come, girl, spin off thy distaff."

I watch to see him passing;
The night has grown so dark
I shall not see him coming,
Bur I shall hear his footstep,
That crushes down the flowers
That crushes down my heart.
He will not see me waiting,
He will not hear me sobbing,
I listen in the dark.

The night comes fast, I hear the oxen chewing,
The stars are very white and very little,
My mother cries "Come, girl, spin off thy distaff."