The moonlight is bathing in the sea of the sky
The brigand is musing in the forest, with a sigh,
The night spread thick dew all over the grass,
But there are more tears in the bandit’s eyes.
Leaning on the shaft of his axe he’d ponder:
“Why did I do all those mean things, I wonder.
My dear mother, you always wanted me good,
Why did I not listen to you when I could?
I became a vagabond and left my home
I have joined robbers with whom I roam.
I am still among them, I am still the same,
A menace to travelers, to my utter shame.
I would go home gladly and leave them behind
But it is too late, there is no home to find.
My dear mother has died and the house collapsed;
The gallows are standing—I am the next!”