by
Robert Burns (1759 - 1796)
Highland Mary
See originalLanguage: Scottish (Scots)
Thou ling'ring star, with less'ning ray,
That lov'st to greet the early morn,
Again thou usher'st in the day
My Mary from my soul was torn.
O Mary! dear, departed shade!
Where is thy place of blissful rest?
Seest thou thy lover lowly laid?
Hear'st thou the groans that rend his breast?
That sacred hour can I forget,
Can I forget the hallow'd grove,
Where by the winding Ayr we met
To live one day of parting love!
Eternity cannot efface
Those records dear of transports past,
The image of our last embrace; --
Ah! little thought we 'twas our last!
...
Still o'er these scenes my mem'ry wakes,
And fondly broods with miser care;
Time but the impression stronger makes,
As streams their channels deeper wear.
My Mary! dear departed shade!
Where is thy place of blissful rest?
Seest thou thy lover lowly laid?
Hear'st thou the groans that rend his breast?
Note: the text above is taken from stanzas 1,2,4 of the original text.
Confirmed with
The Complete Poetical Works of Robert Burns, Cambridge edition, Boston and New York, Houghton Mifflin Company, 1897, page 227.
Composition:
Set to music by (Franz) Joseph Haydn (1732 - 1809), "Highland Mary", JHW. XXXII/3 no. 170, Hob. XXXIa no. 159, 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) , copyright © 2014, (re)printed on this website with kind permission
Research team for this page: Ferdinando Albeggiani , Pierre Mathé
[Guest Editor] This text was added to the website: 2009-09-02
Line count: 32
Word count: 202
Language: French (Français) after the Scottish (Scots)
Toi étoile attardée à la lueur atténuée
Qui aime à saluer le petit matin,
Tu accompagnes encore une fois le jour
Où ma Marie fut arrachée de mon âme.
Ô Marie, chère ombre en-allée !
Où est le lieu de ton bienheureux repos ?
Vois-tu ton humble amant gisant ?
Entends-tu les gémissement de sa poitrine ?
Puis-je oublier cette heure sacrée,
Puis-je oublier le bosquet sacré
Où nos nous rencontrâmes au bord de l'Ayr
Pour vivre d'amour une journée de séparation ?
L'éternité ne peut effacer
La chère mémoire de ces transports passés,
L'image de notre dernière étreinte –
Hélas ! Nous ne pensions point que ce fut la dernière !
...
Ma mémoire réveille encore ces scènes,
Et les couve tendrement d'un soin avare ;
Le temps ne fait que renforcer ces impressions,
Comme les torrents creusent plus profondément leurs lits.
Ma Marie ! Chère ombre en-allée !
Où est le lieu de ton bienheureux repos ?
Vois-tu ton humble amant gisant ?
Entends-tu les gémissement de sa poitrine ?
About the headline (FAQ)
Note: the text above is taken from stanzas 1,2,4 of the original text.
"Thou ling'ring star" = "Toi étoile attardée"
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), "Thou ling'ring star"
Go to the general single-text view
This text was added to the website: 2014-09-21
Line count: 32
Word count: 218
