Classic Poem

Was I not once the red cranberry
By the river flowing?
My father's only child was I
In his house growing.

But they plucked the boughs of the kalina,
They made great bunches—
Such is my fortune—O unhappy fortune!

But on a day they married me;
As I was bidden
I married—and, my blinded eyes
Forever hidden,

The world grew dark upon that morning—
Such is my fortune, O unhappy fortune!

Is there no river that I may drown in?
Was there none other
Than he, the youth to whom they wed me,
Father and mother?

Rivers a-plenty can be found here—
But dry the bed now:
And youths, brave, gallant youths, are countless,
But they are dead now!