|Lidové písně - Anglické||[-] Transpozícia [+] Tlač textu  |
The Unquiet Grave
Lidové písně - Anglické
How cold the wind do blow, dear love, Cold are the drops of rain. The very first love that ever I had In the cold grave he is lain. I'll do as much for my true love As any young girl may, I'll sit and mourn above his grave For a twelvemonth and a day. When twelve months and a day had gone The ghost began to speak, Why sit you here by my graveside And will not let me sleep ? O down in yonder green, sweetheart, Where you and I did walk, The fairest flower that blossomed there Is withered to a stalk. The stalk will bear no leaves, sweetheart, The flower will never return, And my true love is dead and gone, And I do nought but mourn. O don't you see the fire, sweetheart, The fire that burns so blue, Where my poor soul tormented is, While I remain with you. What is it that you want of me And will not let me sleep ? Your salten tears they trickle down And wet my winding sheet. There's one thing more I want, sweetheart, There's one thing more I crave, I want one kiss of your lily-white lips And I'll go from your grave. My cheek is cold as the clay, sweetheart, My breath is earthy strong, And if you kiss my lily-white lips Your days will not be long. Mourn not for me, my dearest dear, Mourn not for me, I crave, I must leave you and all the world, And turn into my grave. Now I have mourned upon his grave A twelve-month and a day, I'll set my sail before the wind To waft me far away.