When he was riding through the old Romanian town,
Heading to the East, he had to stop 'till dawn
He had to stop' till dawn

Late it was, he took water from a well,
Glittering and cold, water quenched his thirst
But, that old well was dry

And the moon was shining bright,
Scattered sparkles rounded the well,
Sound of a distant flute he heard,
His horse ran away

Suddenly, some children all in white
Made a ring around him, whispering:

He, who drinks the water from the well,
Falls into her embrace, tells the tale
As the eyes are windows to the soul,
Through his gaze she'll know it all

No one ever heard a word of him,
Some tale says his soul still lingers thirsty

And if you're riding
Through some old Romanian town on your road to East,
You should never stop before the dawn
Never stop before the dawn