Min Anna is en Ros’ so roth,
Min Anna is min Blom,
Min Anna is en Swölk to Fot,
Min Anna is as Melk un Blot,
As Appel oppen Bom.

My Anna is a rose so red!
My lovely bloom is she.
Like swallows’ flight, like blossoms’ flood.
My Anna is like milk and blood,
Like apples on a tree.

De Vullmach hett en Appelgarn,
Un Rosen inne Strat;
De Vullmach kann sin Rosen wahrn,
De Vullmach kann sin Appeln arn.
Min Anna is min Staat!

The squire has many apple-trees
And roses front and side.
Squire, keep your roses, please!
Squire, keep your apple-trees!
My Anna is my pride!

Se is min Staat, se is min Freid
Un allens alltomal,
Un wenn de Wind de Rosen weiht,
Un wenn de Wind de Appeln sleit:
Se fallt mi nich hendal.

She is my joy. She is my pride.
She’s all I want forever.
When winds blow during autumn tide,
When apples fall, the rose has died,
I’ll never drop her. Never!

Se fallt ni af, se fallt ni hin,
Se hett son frischen Moth;
So blöht min Hart, so blöht min Sinn,
Min Anna blift de Blom derin
Bet an min seli Dod.

She’s never down. She is no bore.
She’s full of life and fun.
She makes my heart and spirit soar.
She’ll bloom inside forevermore
Until my days are done.