I was in the days that are gone-- I was like an apple flower A cowberry flower on a hillside My father used to call me blossom Mother used to call me sunrise And a moon my sister called me I went out to tend the cattle-- As a lassie out to herd sheep To a brook I came thus herding On the bank there stood a willow From the willow fell a young lad With a buckle, a belt in his hand I, poor lassie, took to weeping,-- And the youngster wondered, asking What is it you weep for, maiden? There is something that I weep for I do weep for my young brother I have not seen him with my eyes Since he went to war at a young age Since he went to war at a young age Do not weep for your young brother-- Look, there comes now your young brother Under the castle oars are rowing Above the castle the head is looking I, poor lassie, began to listen, I, the wretched one, started looking I, poor lassie, began to listen, I, the wretched one, started looking But my brother stood beside me-- In front of me my mother's young one