When he was a little fellow,
And his mother birthday had,
Didn´t have for her a present,
And no pocket money yet,
So he went out to the meadow,
To his childhood paradise,
And a bunch of wild field flowers,
Did he pick with starry eyes,
Just a bunch of wild field flowers,
Did he bring to her,

Time went by he had to leave her,
Being now a grown up man,
But so far from home he thought there,
Often of his mother then,
And he sent her golden bracelets,
Rings and many things like that,
But a bunch of wild field flowers,
Was the only wish she had,
Just a bunch of wild field flowers,
Would he bring to her.

Year were coming, Year were fleeting,
Then one day he did come back,
But her door was closed so firmly,
And the windows hung with black,
No one told him what had happened,
But he knew he´d come too late,
So a bunch of wild field flowers,
From the meadow by the gate,
Just a bunch of wild field flowers,
Did he bring to her.