Rain or shine, unbuttoned is my coat,
Through the slush, wet snow and puddles I paddle.
At an easy pace goes my true horse,
There’s no other horse with such an amble.

He who ever gives me a delight
Is the barker selling stuffs by weight.
I can’t be a singer in the choir,
Yield to orders of the eighty-eight.

Being in the line, I’d broken formation,
And my sergeant cursed me many times.
Bit by bit, did I increase my pace,
And all men watched me and did likewise.

To become like other people I’m coached,
Once I’ll fall in onerous times, no doubt.
In the slogan, “Speak in a low voice!”
Never shall I sense the second part.

“Speak in a low voice!” — some can do it,
But I can’t bear the catchword “low voice”,
When I hear this call, I sense but “speak”,
And I speak aloud and clear, of course.

As a rule, the lovers stroll about
When the sun is down, in the moonlight.
For my love and me, this fact doesn’t count,
We prefer to stroll in the daylight.

When thou hastn’t permission to it, don’t smoke,
But if thou canst bear no more, do it!
Don’t thou bluster if no one adopts
Thy simplicity and loss of speech!