BURNS, Robert
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That’s newly sprung in June; O my Luve's like the melodie
That’s sweetly play'd in tune.
So deep in luve am I: And I will luve thee still, my dear,
Till a’ the seas gang dry:
And the rocks melt wi’ the sun: I will luve thee still, my dear,
While the sands o’ life shall run.
And fare thee well, a while! And I will come again, my Luve,
Tho’ it were ten thousand mile.
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de knoppe vers ontsprongen; mijn lief is als de melodie
bij snarenspel gezongen.
zo teer als met mijn ogen ge blijft mij dier totdat de zon
de zeeën zal verdrogen.
de gloed der zonnestralen - beminnen zal ik u zolang
als ik zal ademhalen.
nu moet ik henen ijlen - ik kere weer, al scheiden ons
tienduizend lange mijlen!
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Afton Water
Flow gently, sweet Afton, among thy green braes,
Flow gently, I'll sing thee a song in thy praise;
My Mary's asleep by thy murmuring stream,
Flow gently, sweet Afton, disturb not her dream.
Thou stock-dove, whose echo resounds thro' the glen,
Ye wild whistling blackbirds in yon thorny den,
Thou green-crested lapwing, thy screaming forbear,
I charge you disturb not my slumbering fair.
How lofty, sweet Afton, thy neighbouring hills,
Far mark'd with the courses of clear winding rills;
There daily I wander as noon rises high,
My flocks and my Mary's sweet cot in my eye.
How pleasant thy banks and green valleys below,
Where wild in the woodlands the primroses blow;
There oft, as mild Ev'ning sweeps over the lea,
The sweet-scented birk shades my Mary and me.
Thy crystal stream, Afton, how lovely it glides,
And winds by the cot where my Mary resides,
How wanton thy waters her snowy feet lave,
As gathering sweet flowrets she stems thy clear wave.
Flow gently, sweet Afton, among thy green braes,
Flow gently, sweet river, the theme of my lays;
My Mary's asleep by thy murmuring stream,
Flow gently, sweet Afton, disturb not her dream