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A Highland lad my love was born, The Lalland laws he held in scorn, But he still was faithfu' to his clan, My gallant, braw John Highlandman. Chorus: Sing hey my braw John Highlandman! Sing ho my braw John Highlandman! There's not a lad in a' the lan' Was match for my John Highlandman. With his philibeg an' tartan plaid, An' guid claymore down by his side, The ladies' hearts he did trepan, My gallant, braw John Highlandman. We ranged a' from Tweed to Spey, An' liv'd like lords an' ladies gay, For a Lalland face he feared none, My gallant, braw John Highlandman. They banish'd him beyond the sea But ere the bud was on the tree, Adown my cheeks the pearls ran, Embracing my John Highlandman. But, och! they catch'd him at the last, And bound him in a dungeon fast. My curse upon them every one, They've hang'd my braw John Highlandman! And now a widow, I must mourn The pleasures that will ne'er return ; No comfort but a hearty can, When I think on John Highlandman.
J. Haydn sets stanzas 1, 4, 6
About the headline (FAQ)
View text with all available footnotesConfirmed with The Complete Poetical Works of Robert Burns, Cambridge edition, Boston and New York, Houghton Mifflin Company, 1897, page 104.
Note: The white cockade was the emblem worn by the Jacobites on their blue bonnetsGlossary:
Braw = fine, handsome
Text Authorship:
- by Robert Burns (1759 - 1796), "Air" [author's text checked 1 time against a primary source]
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Researcher for this page: Pierre Mathé [Guest Editor]
This text was added to the website: 2004-06-30
Line count: 29
Word count: 181
Mon amour était un gars des hautes terres Il tenait en dérision les lois des basses terres Mais il était toujours fidèle à son clan, Mon vaillant, beau John des Highlands. Chœur: Ohé, chantez mon beau John des Highlands ! Oh, chantez mon beau John des Highlands ! Il n'y a pas un gars au pays Pour égaler mon John des Highlands. Avec son kilt et son plaid de tartan Et sa bonne épée écossaise à son côté, Il envoûtait le cœur des femmes, Mon vaillant, beau John des Highlands. Nos terres s'étendaient de la Tweed à la Spey, Et vivions joyeusement comme des seigneurs et des dames, Car il ne craignait aucune figure des basses terres, Mon vaillant, beau John des Highlands. Ils l'ont banni au-delà des mers Mais avant que les arbres soient en bourgeons Les perles coulèrent sur mes joues Quand j'embrassai mon John des Highlands. Mais hélas, ils finirent par l'attraper Et le serrèrent dans un donjon. Que ma malédiction soit sur chacun d'entre eux, Ils ont pendu mon beau John des Highlands ! Et maintenant veuve, je dois porter le deuil Des plaisirs qui jamais ne reviendront ; Il n'y a pas de consolation pour un cœur sincère Quand je pense à John des Highlands.
About the headline (FAQ)
View text with all available footnotesHaydn a mis en musique les strophes 1,4,6 et le refrain
Text Authorship:
- Translation from Scottish (Scots) to French (Français) copyright © 2014 by Pierre Mathé, (re)printed on this website with kind permission. To reprint and distribute this author's work for concert programs, CD booklets, etc., you may ask the copyright-holder(s) directly or ask us; we are authorized to grant permission on their behalf. Please provide the translator's name when contacting us.
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Based on:
- a text in Scottish (Scots) by Robert Burns (1759 - 1796), "Air"
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This text was added to the website: 2014-11-09
Line count: 29
Word count: 207