Live coal and soot,
My lover will not betray me. 
Bag, bag, poppy,
would wrestle with the devil.
My wife is coming from the mill, 
With a black turkey in her apron. 
Oh, mother, how my side hurts! 
Summer is coming with luck
So you can rest in the corner. 
Oh, mother, how my side hurts!
She is as old as mama,
Yet she would go for a week. 
Oh, mother, how my side hurts!
Owow, my dear, just let her go,
It is all the same anyway, my dear brother.