by
Robert Burns (1759 - 1796)
Language: Scottish (Scots)
O, Logan, sweetly didst thou glide,
The day I was my Willie's bride;
And years sinsyne hae o'er us run,
Like Logan to the simmer sun.
But now thy flowery banks appear
Like drumlie Winter, dark and drear,
While my dear lad maun face his faes,
Far, far frae me and Logan braes. -
Again the merry month o' May
Has made our hills and vallies gay;
The birds rejoice in leafy bowers,
The bees hum round the breathing flowers:
Blythe Morning lifts his rosy eye,
And Evening's tears are tears of joy:
My soul, delightless, a' surveys,
While Willie 's far frae Logan braes. -
...
O wae upon you, Men o' State,
That brethren rouse in deadly hate!
As ye make mony a fond heart mourn,
Sae may it on your heads return!
How can your flinty hearts enjoy
The widow's tears, the orphan's cry:
But soon may Peace bring happy days
And Willie, hame to Logan braes!
Note: the text above is taken from stanzas 1-2,4 of the original text.
Glossary
sinsyne = since that time;
drumlie = muddy;
maun = must
Composition:
Set to music by (Franz) Joseph Haydn (1732 - 1809), "Logan water", Hob. XXXIa:163, JHW XXXII/3 no. 168, stanzas 1-2,4
Text Authorship:
Go to the general single-text view
Available translations, adaptations or excerpts, and transliterations (if applicable):
- FRE French (Français) (Pierre Mathé) , "La rivière de Logan", copyright © 2014, (re)printed on this website with kind permission
Researcher for this text: Emily Ezust [
Administrator]
This text was added to the website between May 1995 and September 2003.
Line count: 32
Word count: 211
Language: French (Français) after the Scottish (Scots)
Ô rivière de Logan, tu glissais doucement
Le jour où je fus mariée à mon Willie,
Et depuis lors bien des jours ont coulé sur nous,
Comme sur la rivière de Logan au soleil d'été.
Mais maintenant tes berges fleuries apparaissent
Comme le maussade hiver, sombre et affreux,
Pendant que mon cher bien-aimé doit affronter ses ennemis,
Loin, loin de moi et des collines de Logan.
Encore une fois le joyeux mois de mai
A égayé nos collines et vallées ;
Les oiseaux se réjouissent dans les bosquets feuillus,
Les abeilles bourdonnent dans l'exhalaison des fleurs ;
Le riant matin ouvre son œil rose
Et les larmes du soir sont des larmes de joie :
Mon cœur regarde de tous côtés sans plaisir,
Alors que mon bien-aimé est loin des collines de Logan.
...
Oh malheur à vous, hommes d'état,
Qui réveillez des haines mortelles entre frères !
Vous qui faites porter le deuil à bien des cœurs tendres,
Puisse-t-il retomber sur vos têtes !
Comment vos cœur de pierre peuvent-ils se réjouir
Des larmes de la veuve et des pleurs de l'orphelin ;
Mais puisse la paix apporter bientôt des jours heureux,
Et Willy à la maison, dans les collines de Logan !
Note: the text above is taken from stanzas 1-2,4 of the original text.
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.
Contact: licenses@email.lieder.example.net
Based on:
- a text in Scottish (Scots) by Robert Burns (1759 - 1796), "Logan water"
Go to the general single-text view
This text was added to the website: 2014-11-10
Line count: 32
Word count: 261
