.1. Strophe:
Loibere risen von den boimen hin zu tal,
des stan blot ir este.
Blomen sich wisen daz se sint verturben al,
schoone was ir gleste.
Sus twinget de rife
maniger hande wurzel sal,
des bin ich gar sere betrübet.
Nu ich zu grife sinte der winder ist so kal
des wirt.
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