Oh, hush, hush, let not the name of modesty be dismayed,
When I was milking the cow, a kiss on my lips was laid.
The plow lies still, the earth remains untouched this hour,
Youth’s burden, modesty, now feels a heavy dower.
Both hands were ensnared, what could I say?
When I was milking the cow, a kiss on my lips did sway.
Standing behind me, he quietly did appear,
I paid no heed, absorbed, my thoughts unclear.
I didn’t know which hands had held him at bay,
When I was milking the cow, a kiss on my lips did play.
Lost in my duties, my mind in its own trance,
I felt a sudden shiver, a rhythm, a dance.
With which hands could I hold him at bay?
When I was milking the cow, a kiss on my lips did stay.
Engrossed in actions, my mind afar and wide,
What was I to know, love’s thief did hide?
When had I ever said to him, “Come what may”?
When I was milking the cow, a kiss on my lips did sway.
He toiled diligently, his mind in constant churn,
What was I to know, his secret I did yearn?
When had I ever spoken, “You mustn’t dare play”?
When I was milking the cow, a kiss on my lips did sway.
