A warm evening poured darkness
Somewhere a quiet song is heard.
Rowan, which is in white,
I’ll stand there alone.
Rowan twig, from a nice little news,
As the berry turns red, my soldier will come then.
Darling writes to me from the army,
That will return home in the fall.
By the mountain ash in the autumn fire
Will meet me again.
Rowan twig, from a nice little news,
As the berry turns red, my soldier will come then.
There is no white lush bird cherry,
There is no perfume of night lilac,
But I go, as to my girlfriend,
I go to the mountain ash, to the native mountain ash.
Rowan twig, from a nice little news,
As the berry turns red, my soldier will arrive then.
Rowan twig, from a nice little news,
As the berry turns red, my soldier will come then,
my soldier will come then, my soldier will come then,
my soldier will come then.
