For violins of gypsies I do pray.

When  mere  genius and expert  create art
And commoners  no  longer  sing and play
Then in this world I wish to play no part
For violins of gypsies I do pray.

Folk dances and melodies  divine
To the public  people once  belonged
On Feast Days we all met  with joy again
With   roasted pig and  cider we did sing.

Society is now truly at  its end
Our rain water to Spanish banks belongs.
Can we into hell further  descend
While famous tenors ravish us with song?

My reservoir is empty and I’m sick;
For all we had is taken by   these tricks