>>21390771On the heath there blooms a little flower
and it's called Erika.
Eagerly a hundred thousand little bees
swarm around Erika.
For her heart is full of sweetness,
a tender scent escapes her blossom-gown.
On the heath there blooms a little flower
and it's called Erika.
Back at home there lives a little maiden
and she's called Erika.
That girl is my faithful little darling
and my joy, Erika.
When the heather blooms in a reddish purple,
I sing her this song in greeting.
On the heath there blooms a little flower
and she's called Erika.
In my room there also blooms a little flower
and she's called Erika.
Already in the grey of dawn as it does at dusk
it looks at me, Erika.
And then it seems to me, as if it's saying aloud:
"Are you thinking of your little bride?"
Back at home a maiden weeps for you
and she's called Erika.
