I die of thirst beside the fountain.

My days are gone a-wandering.

But where are the snows of yesteryear?

Good talkers are only found in Paris.

We were two and had but one heart.

I know everything except myself.

Ah God! Had I but studied in the days of my foolish youth

Blonde or brunette, this rhyme applies, happy is he who knows them not

Brother humans who live after us, do not harden your hearts against us.

We were two and had but one heart between us