The longing took me to desert the ranks,
To my fair land to turn my steps again.
" I had a luckless meeting on my way,
Three grenadiers before me made a halt.
With handcuffs hard and cold they bound my hands,
And led me to Bordeaux to a prison vault.
"Ah, is it then for love of a brown maid,
That in a cell I lie in dismal mood;
My only couch the hard planks of the floor,
Water and black bread my only drink and food."