Beneath trees the grass grows
Ay lu lu lu lu.
And the angry winds blow
So sleep, my little son.
And the angry winds blow
So sleep, my little son.

My child, don't sit by the window,
For you may feel the wind.
And I don't want you, my most beautiful,
That you should, God forbid,
Catch cold.

The sky is already gloomy black
As is my heart.
Beneath trees the grass grows
And the angry winds blow
So sleep, my little son.
And the angry winds blow
So sleep, my little son.
Ay lu lu, Ay lu lu.

So sleep my child, my heart,
Ay lu lu, Ay lu lu.
Just be well.