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Powěz ty mně, hwězdičko má.
Say, my lovely star! O say,
Art thou gloomy—art thou gay?
Art thou gloomy—O be bright—
Pour on me thy streams of light!
Pour thy streams of light on me,
And awaken memory.Gak žiwa gsem newidela na buku zaludu.
I never on a beechen tree, perceiv'd an acorn grow—
Did ever youth desert a maid to wed a widow? No!
O look upon that maiden's cheeks so rosy, fresh, and fair,
And see the widow dragging on, in solitary care.
