Robert Burns (Роберт Бернс)

My Chloris

MY Chloris, mark how green the groves,
  The primrose banks how fair:
The balmy gales awake the flowers,
  And wave thy flaxen hair.

The lav’rock shuns the palace gay,
  And o’er the cottage sings:
For Nature smiles as sweet, I ween,
  To shepherds as to kings.

Let minstrels sweep the skilfu’ string
  In lordly lighted ha’:
The shepherd stops his simple reed,
  Blythe, in the birken shaw.

The princely revel may survey
  Our, rustic dance wi’ acorn;
But are their hearts as light as ours
  Beneath the milk-white thorn?

The shepherd, in the flowery glen,
  In shepherd’s phrase will woo:
The courtier tells a finer tale,
  But is his heart as true?

These wild-wood flowers I’ve pu’d, to deck
  That spotless breast o’ thine:
The courtier’s gems may witness love-
  But ‘tis na love like mine.

1. Sleep’st Thou, or Wak’st Thou
2. The Bonnie Wee Thing
3. Bessy and Her Spinnin’ Wheel
4. Farewell, Thou Stream
5. The Rantin’ Dog the Daddie O’t

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