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How Lang and Dreary How lang and dreary is the night, When I am frae my dearie! I restless lie frae e’en to morn, Tho’ I were ne’er sae weary. For oh, her lanely nights are lang; And oh, her dreams are eerie; And oh, her widow’d heart is sair, That’s absent frae her dearie. When I think on the lightsome days I spent wi’ thee, my dearie, And now that seas between us roar, How can I be but eerie! How slow ye move, ye heavy hours; The joyless day how drearie! It wasna sae ye glinted by, When I was wi’ my dearie. Переводы на другие языки (Translations into another languages): Robert Burns's other poems:
Распечатать (Print) Количество обращений к стихотворению: 2327 |
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Английская поэзия. Адрес для связи eng-poetry.ru@yandex.ru |