35 Scottish Lyrics and other Poems

by Francis George Scott (1880 - 1958)

1. The Sauchs in the Reuch Heuch Hauch  [sung text checked 1 time]

There’s teuch sauchs growin’ i’ the Reuch Heuch Hauch
 [ ... ]

Authorship:

This text may be copyright, so we will not display it until we obtain permission to do so or discover it is public-domain.

Confirmed with The Complete Poems of Hugh MacDiarmid, Volume 1, edited by Michael Grieve and W R Aitken, Penguin Books, Middlesex, 1985, Page 18.

Note: The Reuch Heuch Hauch is a field in MacDiarmid's home town of Hawick in the Scottish Borders.

2. Lourd on my Hert  [sung text checked 1 time]

Lourd on my hert as winter lies
 [ ... ]

Authorship:

This text may be copyright, so we will not display it until we obtain permission to do so or discover it is public-domain.

Confirmed with The Complete Poems of Hugh MacDiarmid, Volume 1, edited by Michael Grieve and W R Aitken, Penguin Books, Middlesex, 1985, Page 204.

Glossary
"Lourd" = weight
"Neist" = next

Note: A comment on Scottish Independence.


3. To a Lady  [sung text checked 1 time]

Sweit rois of vertew and of gentilnes,
Delytsum lyllie of everie lustynes,
Richest in bontie and in bewtie cleir
And everie vertew that is deir,
Except onlie that ye are mercyles.

Into your garthe this day I did persew.
Thair saw I flowris that fresche wer of hew,
Baithe quhyte and rid, moist lusty wer to seyne,
And halsum herbis upone stalkis grene,
Yit leif nor flour fynd could I nane of rew.

I dout that Merche with his caild blastis keyne
Hes slane this gentill herbe that I of mene,
Quhois petewous deithe dois to my hart sic pane
That I wald mak to plant his rute agane,
So that confortand his levis unto me bene.

Authorship:

Confirmed with, William Dunbar: The Complete Poems, edited by John Conlee. Robbins Library Digital Projects, TEAMS Middle English Texts. Item 61.

Modernised version (as set by Scott)
Sweet rose of virtue and of gentleness,
Delight some lily of ev’ry lustiness
Richest in bounty, and in beauty clear
And ev’ry virtue that is held most dear,
Except only that ye are merciless.

Into your garth this day I did pursue,
There saw I floeris that were fresh of hue,
Baith white and reid maist lusty were to seen,
and hale some herbis up on stalk is green:
Yet leaf nor floe’er find could I nane of rue.

I doubt that Merch with his cauld blast is keen,
Has slain that gentle herb that I of mean,
Whose piteous death does to my hert sic pain
That I would mak to plant his root again,
Sae comfort and his leaves unto me been.

Researcher for this text: Iain Sneddon [Guest Editor]

4. The Wee Man  [sung text checked 1 time]

I dinna want a wee man, a wee man, a wee man
 [ ... ]

Authorship:

This text may be copyright, so we will not display it until we obtain permission to do so or discover it is public-domain.

5. On receiving news of the death of Charles I  [sung text checked 1 time]

Great, Good, and Just, could I but rate
My grief with thy too rigid fate,
I'd weep the world in such a strain
As it should deluge once again.

But since thy loud-tongued blood demands supplies
More from Briareus' hands than Argus' eyes,
I'll sing thine obsequies with trumpet sounds
And write thine epitaph in blood and wounds.

Authorship:

Confirmed with Scottish Poetry of the Seventeenth Century, Edited by George Eyre-Todd, Sands and Company, London and Edinburgh, 1891-96, Page 246.

Notes:
"Briareus" - One of three Greek mythological giants with incredible strength
"Argus" - A Greek mythological giant with a hundred eyes set by Hera to watch over Io.


Researcher for this text: Iain Sneddon [Guest Editor]

6. Hungry Waters  [sung text checked 1 time]

The auld men o’ the sea
 [ ... ]

Authorship:

This text may be copyright, so we will not display it until we obtain permission to do so or discover it is public-domain.

Confirmed with The Complete Poems of Hugh MacDiarmid, Volume 1, edited by Michael Grieve and W R Aitken, Penguin Books, Middlesex, 1985, Page 52.


7. Whistle, whistle, auld wife  [sung text checked 1 time]

“Whistle, whistle, auld wife,
An' ye'se get a hen."
“I wadna whistle,” quo' the wife,
“Though ye wad gi'e me ten”

“Whistle, whistle, auld wife,
An' ye'se get a cock.”
“I wadna whistle,” quo' the wife,
“Though ye'd gi'e me a flock.”

“Whistle, whistle, auld wife,
And ye'se get a goun."
“I wadna whistle,” quo' the wife,
“For the best ane i' the toun.”

“Whistle, whistle, auld wife,
An ye'se get a coo.”
“I wadna whistle,” quo the wife,
“Though ye wad gi'e me two.”

“Whistle, whistle, auld wife,
An' ye'se get a man.”
“Wheeple-whauple,” quo' the wife,
“I'll whistle as I can.”

Authorship:

Researcher for this text: Iain Sneddon [Guest Editor]

8. Edward  [sung text checked 1 time]

"Why does your brand sae [drop]1 wi' blude,
     Edward, Edward?
Why does your brand sae [drop]1 wi' blude,
     And why sae sad gang ye, O?"
"O I hae kill'd my hawk sae gude,
     Mither, mither;
O I hae kill'd my hawk sae gude,
     And I had nae mair but he, O."

"Your hawk's blude was never sae red,
     Edward, Edward;
Your hawk's blude was never sae red,
     My dear son, I tell thee, O."
"O I hae kill'd my red-roan steed,
     Mither, mither;
O I hae kill'd my red-roan steed,
     That erst was sae fair and free, O."

"Your steed was auld, and ye hae got mair,
     Edward, Edward;
Your steed was auld, and ye hae got mair;
     [Some other dule ye dree]2, O."
"O I hae [kill'd]3 my father dear,
     Mither, mither;
O I hae [kill'd]3 my father dear,
     Alas, and wae is me, O!"

"And whatten penance will ye dree for that,
     Edward, Edward?
Whatten penance will ye dree for that?
     [My dear son, now tell me]2, O."
"I'll set my feet [in yonder]4 boat,
     Mither, mither;
I'll set my feet [in yonder]4 boat,
     And I'll [fare]5 [over]6 the sea, O."

"And what will ye do wi' your tow'rs and your ha',
     Edward, Edward?
And what will ye do wi' your tow'rs and your ha',
     That were sae fair to see, O?"
"I'll let them stand till they doun fa',
     Mither, mither;
I'll let them stand till they doun fa',
     For here never mair maun I be, O."

"And what will ye leave to your bairns and your wife,
     Edward, Edward?
And what will ye leave to your bairns and your wife,
     When ye gang owre the sea, O?"
"The warld's room: let them beg through life,
     Mither, mither;
The warld's room: let them beg through life;
     For them never mair will I see, O."

"And what will ye leave to your ain mither dear,
     Edward, Edward?
And what will ye leave to your ain mither dear,
     [My dear son, now tell me]2, O?"
"The curse of hell [frae]7 me [sall]8 ye bear,
     Mither, mither;
The curse of hell [frae]7 me [sall]8 ye bear:
     Sic counsels ye gave to me, O!"

Authorship:

Based on:

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Confirmed with The Oxford Book Of English Verse 1250 - 1900, Chosen & Edited by Arthur Quiller-Couch, Oxford, At the Clarendon Press, 1912, pages 425-427.

Note: This old Scottish Ballad has been first published in print by Thomas Percy in his Reliques of Ancient English Poetry in 1765.

1 Scott: "dreep"
2 Gurney: "My dear son, I tell thee"
3 Gurney: "slain"
4 Gurney: "upon a"
5 Gurney: "gang"
6 Scott: "ower"
7 Gurney: "from"
8 Scott: "shall"

Research team for this text: Richard Morris , Iain Sneddon [Guest Editor] , Peter Rastl [Guest Editor]

10. First Love  [sung text checked 1 time]

I have been in this garden of unripe fruit
 [ ... ]

Authorship:

This text may be copyright, so we will not display it until we obtain permission to do so or discover it is public-domain.

Confirmed with The Complete Poems of Hugh MacDiarmid, Volume 1, edited by Michael Grieve and W R Aitken, Penguin Books, Middlesex, 1985, Page 434.


11. An Admonition to Young Lassies  [sung text checked 1 time]

A bony “No,” with smyling looks agane,
    I wald ye leirnd, sen they so comely ar.
As touching “Yes,” if ye suld speik so plane,
    I might reprove you to haif said so far.
    Noght that your grant in ony wayis micht gar
Me loth the fruit that curage ocht to chuse;
    Bot I wald only haif you seme to skar,
And let me tak it, fenzeing to refuse;

And warsill, as it war against your will,
    Appeiring angrie, thoght ye haif no yre:
For haif, ye heir, is haldin half a fill.
    I speik not this as trouing for to tyre;
    Bot as the forger, vhen he feeds his fyre,
With sparks of water maks it burne more bald;
    So sueet denyall doubillis bot desyr,
And quickins curage fra becomming cald.

Wald ye be made of, ye man mak it nyce;
    For dainties heir ar delicat and deir,
Bot plentie things ar prysde to litill pryce.
    Then, thoght ye hearken, let no wit ye heir,
    Bot look auay, and len thame ay your eir.
For, folou love, they say, and it will flie.
    Wald ye be lovd, this lessone mon ye leir;
Flie vhylome love, and it will folou thee.

Authorship:

Confirmed with Scottish Poetry of the Sixteenth Century, Edited by George Eyre-Todd, William Hodge & Co., Glasgow, 1891-96, Page 266.

Glossary gar = cause
skar = scare
fenzeing = feigning
warsill = wrestle
forger = smith
vhylome = for a time

Modernised version set by Scott

A bonnie ‘No’, with smiling looks again,
  I wald ye learn’d, sen they so comely are.
As touching ‘Yes’, if ye suld speak so plain,
  I might reprove you to have said so far.
  Nocht that your grant, in ony ways, micht gar
Me loathe the fruit that courage ocht to choose;
  But I wald only have you seem to skar,
And let me tak it, feigning to refuse;

And warsle, as it were against your will,
  Appearing angry, though ye have no ire:
For have, ye hear, is halden half a fill.
  I speak not this as trowing for to tire;
  But as the forger, when he feeds his fire,
With sparks of water maks it burn more bauld;
  So, sweet denial doubles but desire,
And quickens courage fra becoming cauld.

Wald ye be made of, ye maun mak it nice;
  For dainties here are delicate and dear,
Bot plenty things are priz’d to little price.
  Then, though ye hearken, let no wit ye hear,
  But look away, and len them aye your ear:
For, follow love, they say, and it will flee.
  Wald ye be lov’d, this lesson maun ye leir;
Flee whilom love, and it will follow thee.

Researcher for this text: Iain Sneddon [Guest Editor]

12. I wha aince in Heaven's Heicht   [sung text checked 1 time]

I wha aince in Heaven’s height
 [ ... ]

Authorship:

This text may be copyright, so we will not display it until we obtain permission to do so or discover it is public-domain.

Confirmed with The Complete Poems of Hugh MacDiarmid, Volume 1, edited by Michael Grieve and W R Aitken, Penguin Books, Middlesex, 1985, Page 234.


13. The Sea Hounds  [sung text checked 1 time]

'There's a hound at the door, [Shawn]1 O'Farrell,
There's a hound at the door.
If you take down the bar or the shutter,
I shall see you no more,
I shall see you no more!'

'Oh, it is but the sea that is loosing
The white dogs of its spray.
Take your gentle young arms from about me,
For I must on my way.'

'But they whine at the window, O'Farrell,
How they sniff at the pane!'
'Oh, it is but the wind in its passing,
The wild wind and the rain.'

'How they keen in their waiting, O'Farrell,
So I hold you, afraid.'
''Tis some soul that's nigh lost in the tempest
Who so calls for my aid.'

'It's a witch of the waters, O'Farrell,
All sea-cold and wave-white,
With her hounds that will fawn till you follow
To your death in the night.'

He has opened the door, Shawn O'Farrell,
And gone forth to the dark;
The wild hounds by his heel race and quarrel,
How they leap and they bark!

He has launched his frail boat on the waters—
He has pushed from the shore!
Pray, oh, pray for the soul of O'Farrell,
He shall come back no more.
'[Shawn]1 O'Farrell, O'Farrell, O'Farrell,
I shall see you no more!'

Authorship:

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1 Scott: "Sean"

Researcher for this text: Iain Sneddon [Guest Editor]

14. The Tryst  [sung text checked 1 time]

O luely, luely cam she in
And luely she lay doun:
I kent her by her caller lips
And her briests sae sma' and roun'.

A' thru the nicht we spak nae word
Nor sinder'd bane frae bane:
A' thru the nicht I heard her hert
Gang soundin' wi' [my]1 ain.

It was about the waukrife hour
[Whan]2 cocks begin [to]3 craw
That she smool'd saftly thru the mirk
Afore the day wud daw.

Sae luely, luely cam she in
Sae luely was she gaen
And wi' her a' my simmer days
Like they had never been.

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Available translations, adaptations or excerpts, and transliterations (if applicable):

  • ENG English (Iain Sneddon) , copyright © 2018, (re)printed on this website with kind permission
  • GER German (Deutsch) [singable] (Bertram Kottmann) , "Das Stelldichein", copyright © 2018, (re)printed on this website with kind permission

View original text (without footnotes)

Confirmed with Scottish Poems, ed. by Gerard Carruthers, Everyman's Library, 2009, page 94.

1 MacMillan: "ma"
2 Scott: "When"
3 MacMillan: "tae"

Research team for this text: Emily Ezust [Administrator] , Iain Sneddon [Guest Editor] , Andrew Schneider [Guest Editor]

15. O, wert thou in the cauld blast  [sung text checked 1 time]

O wert thou in the cauld blast
On yonder lea, on yonder lea,
My plaidie to the angry airt,
I'd shelter thee, I'd shelter thee.
Or did Misfortune's bitter storms
Around thee blaw, around thee blaw,
Thy [bield]1 should be my bosom
To share it a', to share it a'.

Or were I in the wildest waste,
Sae black and bare, sae black and bare,
The desert were a Paradise
If thou wert there, if thou wert there.
Or were I monarch of the globe,
Wi' thee to reign, wi' thee to reign,
The brightest jewel in my crown
Wad be my queen, wad be my queen.

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Confirmed with The Complete Poems and Songs of Robert Burns, edited by James Barke with an Introduction by John Cairney, Collins, Glasgow, 1995, Page 698.

1 note: in some editions, this is "shield"; "bield" means "shelter". Searching Google books, we can see that "bield" appears in more editions scanned than does "shield".

Research team for this text: Emily Ezust [Administrator] , Iain Sneddon [Guest Editor]

16. Sunny Gale  [sung text checked 1 time]

The trees were like bubblyjocks
 [ ... ]

Authorship:

This text may be copyright, so we will not display it until we obtain permission to do so or discover it is public-domain.

Confirmed with The Complete Poems of Hugh MacDiarmid, Volume 1, edited by Michael Grieve and W R Aitken, Penguin Books, Middlesex, 1985, Page 67.


17. Robin shure in hairst  [sung text checked 1 time]

Robin shure in hairst,
  I shure wi' him;
Fient a heuk had I,
  Yet I stack by him.

I gaed up to Dunse,
  To warp a wab o' plaiden;
At his daddie's yett,
  Wha met me but Robin!
Robin shure in hairst...

Was na Robin bauld,
  Tho' I was a cotter,
Play'd me sic a trick
  An' me the Eller's dochter!
Robin shure in hairst...

Robin promis'd me
  A' my winter vittle;
Fient haet he had but three
  Goose feathers and a whittle!
Robin shure in hairst...

Authorship:

Available translations, adaptations or excerpts, and transliterations (if applicable):

Confirmed with The Complete Poems and Songs of Robert Burns, edited by James Barke with an Introduction by John Cairney, Collins, Glasgow, 1995, Page 602.

Glossary
fient = nothing
heuk = sickle
yett = gate
Eller = Elder
whittle = pen knife

Research team for this text: Emily Ezust [Administrator] , Iain Sneddon [Guest Editor]

18. O steer her up  [sung text checked 1 time]

O steer her up, an' haud her gaun -- 
Her mither's at the mill, jo; 
An' gin she winna tak a man, 
E'en let her tak her will, jo. 
First shore her wi' a gentle kiss, 
And ca' anither gill, jo, 
An' gin she tak the thing amiss, 
E'en let her flyte her fill, jo. 

O steer her up, an' be na blate, 
An' gin she tak it ill , jo, 
Then leave the lassie till her fate, 
And time nae langer spill, jo! 
Ne'er break your heart for ae rebute, 
But think upon it still, jo, 
That gin the lassie winna do't, 
Ye'll find anither will, jo.

Authorship:

Confirmed with The Complete Poems and Songs of Robert Burns, edited by James Barke with an Introduction by John Cairney, Collins, Glasgow, 1995, Page 598.

See also Allan Ramsay's O steer her up, and had her gawin.

Glossary
jo = friend
shore = threaten
flyte = scold
blate = shy
spill = waste

Researcher for this text: Iain Sneddon [Guest Editor]

19. Glances  [sung text checked 1 time]

O weel I mind the bonnie morn,
Richt early in the day,
When he cam’ in by oor toun end
To buy a sou o’ hay.

For O he was a handsome lad,
An’ weel did cock his beaver! –
He gar’t my heart play pit-a-pat:
Yet – speired but for my faither!

I turned aboot and gied a cast
That plainly said – ‘Ye deevil! –
Altho’ ye be a braw young lad
Ye needna be unceevil!’

He glower’t at me like ane gaen wud
Wi’ his daurin’ rovin’ een;
At that I leuch and wi’ a fling
Flew roun’ the bourtree screen.

Authorship:

Glossary
sou = shilling
beaver = hat
speired = wished
cast = look
gaen wud = turned to wood
bourtree = European elder

Researcher for this text: Iain Sneddon [Guest Editor]

20. There's news, lasses, news  [sung text checked 1 time]

There's news, lasses, news, 
Gude news I've to tell,
There's a boatfu' o' lads 
Come to our town to sell. 

The wean wants a cradle, 
An' the cradle wants a cod, 
An' I'll no gang to my bed, 
Until I get a nod. 

Father, quo' she, Mither, quo she, 
Do what you can, 
I'll no gang to my bed, 
Till I get a man. 
 
The wean wants a cradle, 
An' the cradle wants a cod, 
An' I'll no gang to my bed, 
Until I get a nod. 

I hae as gude a craft rig 
As made o' yird and stane; 
And waly fa' the ley-crap, 
For I maun till't again. 
 
The wean wants a cradle, 
An' the cradle wants a cod, 
An' I'll no gang to my bed, 
Until I get a nod.

Authorship:

Confirmed with The Complete Poems and Songs of Robert Burns, edited by James Barke with an Introduction by John Cairney, Collins, Glasgow, 1995, Page 609.

Glossary wean = child
cod = pillow
craft rig = croft house
yird = earth
ley-crap = pasture
maun till'd = must plough it


Research team for this text: Emily Ezust [Administrator] , Iain Sneddon [Guest Editor]

21. The Man in the Moon  [sung text checked 1 time]

The moon beams kelter in the lift
 [ ... ]

Authorship:

This text may be copyright, so we will not display it until we obtain permission to do so or discover it is public-domain.

Confirmed with The Complete Poems of Hugh MacDiarmid, Volume 1, edited by Michael Grieve and W R Aitken, Penguin Books, Middlesex, 1985, Page 24.


23. The Innumerable Christ  [sung text checked 1 time]

Wha kens on whatna Bethlehems
 [ ... ]

Authorship:

This text may be copyright, so we will not display it until we obtain permission to do so or discover it is public-domain.

Confirmed with The Complete Poems of Hugh MacDiarmid, Volume 1, edited by Michael Grieve and W R Aitken, Penguin Books, Middlesex, 1985, Page 32.


24. Landlady, count the lawin'   [sung text checked 1 time]

Landlady, count the lawin, 
The day is near the dawin; 
Ye're a' blind drunk, boys, 
   And I'm but jolly fou.
Chorus: 
 Hey tutti, taiti, 
 How tutti, taiti, 
 Hey tutti, taiti, 
 Wha's fou now? 

Cog, an ye were ay fou, 
Cog, an ye were ay fou, 
I wad sit and sing to you, 
   If ye were ay fou! 

Weel may ye a' be! 
Ill may ye never see! 
God bless the king 
   And the companie!

Authorship:

Confirmed with The Complete Poems and Songs of Robert Burns, edited by James Barke with an Introduction by John Cairney, Collins, Glasgow, 1995, Page 430.

Glossary
lawin = the bill/check
fou = drunk
cog (coggie) = friend


Researcher for this text: Iain Sneddon [Guest Editor]

25. Alba  [sung text checked 1 time]

Subtitle: Scotland

The blaffering wind blows from Southwest
 [ ... ]

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26. Country Life  [sung text checked 1 time]

Ootside!... Ootside!
 [ ... ]

Authorship:

This text may be copyright, so we will not display it until we obtain permission to do so or discover it is public-domain.

Confirmed with The Complete Poems of Hugh MacDiarmid, Volume 1, edited by Michael Grieve and W R Aitken, Penguin Books, Middlesex, 1985, Page 31.

Glossary
bum-clocks = bumble bees
corn-skreich = corncrake
guissay = pig
cray = pigsty
golochs = earwigs
on the ca’ = being rocked
fochin’ = making

27. Love of Alba  [sung text checked 1 time]

Her face it was that fankl’t me
 [ ... ]

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This text may be copyright, so we will not display it until we obtain permission to do so or discover it is public-domain.

28. Florine  [sung text checked 1 time]

Could I bring back lost youth again
And be what I have been,
I’d court you in a gallant strain,
My young and fair Florine.

But mine’s the chilling age that chides
Devoted rapture’s glow,
And Love that conquers all besides
Finds time a conqu’ring foe.

Farewell, we’re severed by our fate
As far as night from noon;
You came into the world too late,
And I depart so soon.

Authorship:

Researcher for this text: Iain Sneddon [Guest Editor]

29. The Deil o' Bogie  [sung text checked 1 time]

When I was young and ower young,
I wad a deid aud wife;
But ere three days had gane by,
Gi Ga Gane by, I rued the sturt and strife.
Sae to the kirk-yaird furth I fared,
And to the Deil I prayed:
“O, muckle Deil o’ Bogie,
Bi Ba Bogie, Come tak the rankled jade”.
When I got hame the soor auld bitch
Was deid, ay, deid enough.

I yokkit the mare to the dung-cairt,
Ding Dang Dung-cairt, 
And drove her furth and leuch!
And when I cam to the place o’ peace,
The grave was howk’d, and snod:
“Gae canny wi’ the corp, lads,
Ci Ca Corp, lads; You’ll wauk her up, b’ God.
Ram in, ram in the bonnie, bonnie yird
Up on the ill-daein wife
When she was hale and herty,
Hi Ha Herty, She plagued me o’ my life.”

But when I gat me hame again,
The hoose seemed toom and wide.
For juist three days I waited,
Wit Wat Waited, Syne took a braw young bride.
In three short days my braw young wife
Had ta’en to lound ‘rin me.
Gie’s back dear Deil o’ Bogie,
Bi Ba Bogie, My auld calamitie.

Authorship:

Based on:

Researcher for this text: Iain Sneddon [Guest Editor]

30. Im Tiroler Wirtshaus  [sung text checked 1 time]

Als erster kommt der Hahn
 [ ... ]

Authorship:

Available translations, adaptations or excerpts, and transliterations (if applicable):

  • ENG English (Iain Sneddon) , "At the Tyrolean Hotel", copyright © 2019, (re)printed on this website with kind permission

This text may be copyright, so we will not display it until we obtain permission to do so or discover it is public-domain.

31. Verlasst mich hier  [sung text checked 1 time]

[ ... ]

Fehlt's am Begriff: wie sollt' er sie vermissen?
Er wiederholt ihr Bild zu tausend Malen.
Das zaudert bald, bald wird es weggerissen,
Undeutlich jetzt und jetzt im reinsten Strahlen;
Wie könnte dies geringstem Troste frommen,
Die Ebb' und Flut, das Gehen wie das Kommen?

Verlasst mich hier, getreue Weggenossen!
Lasst mich allein am Fels, in Moor und Moos;
Nur immer zu! euch ist die Welt erschlossen,
Die Erde weit, der Himmel hehr und groß;
Betrachtet, forscht, die Einzelheiten sammelt,
Naturgeheimnis werde nachgestammelt.

[ ... ]

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Confirmed with Johann Wolfgang von Goethe, Poetische Werke, Band 1, Berliner Ausgabe, Berlin, 1960, Page 497, titled "Elegie". Also titled "Die Marienbader Elegie" in other editions.

1 Scott: "zu Grunde"

Researcher for this text: Iain Sneddon [Guest Editor]

32. Deingedenken  [sung text checked 1 time]

Was soll ich denn ansehen
Und deiner nicht gedenken?
Ja, Ort und Stunde weiß ich nicht,
Die leis nicht deinen Namen spricht.

Bei schöner Morgenfrühe,
Wie muss ich dein gedenken!
Ob Tag, ob Abend glühe,
Doch muss ich dein gedenken!
Und fährt die Nacht her, ruhevoll,
Weiß nicht, was ich sonst denken soll.

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Available translations, adaptations or excerpts, and transliterations (if applicable):

  • ENG English (Iain Sneddon) , "Your memory", copyright © 2019, (re)printed on this website with kind permission

Please note: this text, provided here for educational and research use, is in the public domain in Canada, but it may still be copyright in other legal jurisdictions. The LiederNet Archive makes no guarantee that the above text is public domain in your country. Please consult your country's copyright statutes or a qualified IP attorney to verify whether a certain text is in the public domain in your country or if downloading or distributing a copy constitutes fair use. The LiederNet Archive assumes no legal responsibility or liability for the copyright compliance of third parties.

Researcher for this text: Iain Sneddon [Guest Editor]

33. La belle est au jardin d'amour  [sung text checked 1 time]

La belle est au jardin d'amour, 
Voilà z’un mois ou six semaines, 
Son père la cherche partout 
Et son amant est bien en peine.
Berger, berger, n'as-tu pas vu 
N'as-tu pas vu la beauté même?

‘Comment est-elle donc vêtue?
Est-elle en soie est-elle de laine?’ 
Elle est vêtue de satin blanc, 
Et dans ces mains blanches mitaines;
Ses chevaux, qui flottent aux vent,
Ont une odeur de marjolaine.

Elle est là-bas dans ces vallons, 
Assise au bord d'une fontaine; 
Dans ses mains tient un bel oiseau, 
A qui la bell’ conte sa peine.
Petit oiseau, tu es heureux 
D'être entre ainsi auprès de ma belle !

Et moi je suis son amoureux, 
Je ne puis m'approcher d'elle.
Peut on être auprès du rosier, 
Sans pouvoir cueillir la rose? 
‘Cueillissez si vous voulez,
Car c'est pour vous qu'elle est déclose.’

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Available translations, adaptations or excerpts, and transliterations (if applicable):

  • ENG English (Iain Sneddon) , "Beauty is in the garden of love", copyright © 2019, (re)printed on this website with kind permission

Researcher for this text: Iain Sneddon [Guest Editor]

34. Je descendis dans mon jardin   [sung text checked 1 time]

Je descendis dans mon jardin,
Pour y cueillir du romarin;
Etait il tard ou bien matin?
Je ne sais plus; je ne sais rien.

N’en avais pas cueilli trois brins,
Que tu parus dans le chemin;
Etait il tard ou bien matin?
Je ne sais plus; je ne sais rien.

Tu m’as demandé ce butin;
Je te l’ai donné, mais en vain;
Etait il tard ou bien matin?
Je ne sais plus; je ne sais rien.

Adieu, douceur furtive et rare...
Etait ce un mal? était ce un bien?
Fallait il se montrer avare?
Je ne sais plus; je ne sais rien.

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Available translations, adaptations or excerpts, and transliterations (if applicable):

  • ENG English (Iain Sneddon) , "I stooped down in my garden", copyright © 2019, (re)printed on this website with kind permission

Researcher for this text: Iain Sneddon [Guest Editor]

35. Au miroir de ma mère  [sung text checked 1 time]

Au miroir de ma mère,
J'ai vu le long passé,
Les chemins de la terre
Où ses pieds ont marché;

Au miroir de ma mère,
J'ai vu le cheveux lourds
Qu'elle enroulait naguère,
En ses simples atours;

Au miroir de ma mère,
J'ai vu le pauvre nid,
La lutte ardente et fière,
L'amour jamais fini;

Au miroir de ma mère,
J'ai vu le long souci,
J'ai vu vie entière,
Et la mort blanche aussi.

Authorship:

Available translations, adaptations or excerpts, and transliterations (if applicable):

  • ENG English (Iain Sneddon) , "In my mother’s mirror", copyright © 2019, (re)printed on this website with kind permission

Researcher for this text: Iain Sneddon [Guest Editor]
Total word count: 4473