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[Behold, my love, how]1 green the groves, The primrose banks how fair; The balmy gales awake the flowers, And wave thy flowing hair. The lav'rock shuns the palace gay, And o'er the cottage sings: For Nature smiles as sweet, I ween, To Shepherds as to Kings. Let minstrels sweep the skilfu' string, In lordly lighted ha': The Shepherd stops his simple reed, Blythe in the birken shaw. The Princely revel may survey Our rustic dance wi' scorn; But are their hearts as light as ours, Beneath the milk-white thorn! The shepherd, in the flowery glen; In shepherd's phrase, will woo: The courtier tells a finer tale, But is his heart as true! These wild-wood flowers I've pu'd, to deck That spotless breast o' thine: The courtiers' gems may witness love, But, 'tis na love like mine.
1 in some editions, "My Chloris, mark how" (and titled "My Chloris, mark")
Text Authorship:
- by Robert Burns (1759 - 1796), "Behold, my love, how green the groves", written 1794 [author's text checked 1 time against a primary source]
Musical settings (art songs, Lieder, mélodies, (etc.), choral pieces, and other vocal works set to this text), listed by composer (not necessarily exhaustive):
- by Ludwig van Beethoven (1770 - 1827), "Behold, my love, how green the groves", op. 108 (25 schottische Lieder mit Begleitung von Pianoforte, Violine und Violoncello) no. 9 (1815) [ vocal duet with violin, violoncello, and piano ] [sung text checked 1 time]
Available translations, adaptations or excerpts, and transliterations (if applicable):
- FRE French (Français) (Pierre Mathé) , "Vois ma Chloris", copyright © 2014, (re)printed on this website with kind permission
- GER German (Deutsch) (Anonymous/Unidentified Artist) , "Schau her, mein Lieb, der Wälder Grün"
Researcher for this text: Emily Ezust [Administrator]
This text was added to the website: 2004-08-03
Line count: 24
Word count: 137
Vois ma Chloris comme les bosquets sont verts
Comme les primevères des berges sont belles ;
Les brises embaumées réveillent les fleurs,
Et gonflent tes cheveux agités.
L'alouette évite le joyeux palais
Et chante au-dessus du cottage :
Car Nature sourit aussi doucement, j'imagine
Aux bergers qu'aux rois.
Laisse les ménestrels pincer avec art leurs cordes
Dans les halls illuminés des seigneurs :
Le berger suspend son simple pipeau,
Heureux dans le bois de bouleaux.
Les festivités princières peuvent contempler
Avec mépris nos danses rustiques ;
Mais leurs cœurs sont-ils aussi légers que les nôtres
Sous la blanche aubépine !
Le berger, dans le vallon fleuri
Avec des phrases de berger fera sa cour :
Le courtisan aura un discours plus précieux,
Mais son cœur est-il aussi sincère ?
J'ai cueilli ces fleurs sauvages pour couvrir
Ta poitrine immaculée :
Les joyaux du courtisan peuvent témoigner de l'amour,
Mais ce n'est pas un amour comme le mien.
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), "Behold, my love, how green the groves", written 1794
This text was added to the website: 2014-07-13
Line count: 24
Word count: 149