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She's like the swallow that flies so high, She's like the river that never runs dry, She's like the sunshine on the lee shore, I love my love and love is no more. 'Twas out in the garden this fair maid did go, A-picking the beautiful primerose; The more she pluck'd the more she pulled Until she got her aperon full. It's out of those roses she made a bed, A stony pillow for her head. She laid her down, no word did say, Until this fair maid's heart did break. She's like the swallow that flies so high, She's like the river that never runs dry, She's like the sunshine on the lee shore, I love my love and love is no more.
Text Authorship:
Musical settings (art songs, Lieder, mélodies, (etc.), choral pieces, and other vocal works set to this text), listed by composer (not necessarily exhaustive):
Available translations, adaptations, and transliterations (if applicable):
This text was added to the website between May 1995 and September 2003.
Line count: 16
Word count: 124
Sie gleicht einer Schwalbe, die weit oben fliegt, sie gleicht einem Fluss, der nie versiegt, sie ist wie Sonn’licht am windstillen Strand Ich liebe mein Lieb, doch ein Ende es fand. Feins Mädel ging in den Garten hinaus, die leuchtende Primel zu pflücken je mehr sie pflückte, desto mehr zog sie raus, das tat ihren Schurz entzücken. Aus Rosen bereit’ sie ihr Lager fein zum Kissen wurde ihr ein Stein. sie legte sich hin, kein Wort mehr sie sprach, bis es feins Mädel das Herz zerbrach. Sie gleicht einer Schwalbe, die weit oben fliegt, sie gleicht einem Fluss, der nie versiegt, sie ist wie Sonn’licht am windstillen Strand Ich liebe mein Lieb, doch ein Ende es fand.
Text Authorship:
Bertram Kottmann. Contact: BKottmann (AT) t-online.de
If you wish to commission a new translation, please contact: licenses@email.lieder.example.netBased on:
This text was added to the website: 2015-09-09
Line count: 16
Word count: 117
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