by Teresa Clotilde del Riego (1876 - 1968)

Hayfields and butterflies
Language: English 
Butterfly, butterfly, whither are you roaming,
                 On this summer day?
Butterfly, butterfly, my heart is for homing,
                 On this summer day.
June is quickly over, roses and the clover
                 Do not last alway!
Find for me my lover, you who are a rover
                 O'er the fields of hay!
Dancing, dancing, fly unto my lover,
                 See where he may stray;
Kiss his cheek demurely, bring him to me surely
                 On this same summer day!

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Researcher for this page: Joost van der Linden [Guest Editor]

This text was added to the website: 2025-07-08
Line count: 12
Word count: 73