There were no girls not wearing flowers
There were no boys not riding horses.
Girls with flowers waiting for the wedding.
Boys ride the horses to visit the girls’ families.

No flower will not fade
No horse will cross the bridge
Withered flowers are buried everywhere
The horse crossing the bridge does not turn back
When you sing my song.
My horse and I are tired.
It's getting dark and the wine is almost finished
It's getting dark and the wine is almost finished