Robert Burns (Роберт Бернс)

Whistle Owre the Lave O’t

FIRST when Maggy was my care,
Heaven, I thought, was in her air;
Now we’re married-spier nae mair-
  Whistle owre the lave o’t.

Meg was meek, and Meg was mild,
Bonnie Meg was nature’s child-
Wiser men than me’s beguil’d;
  Whistle owre the lays o’t.

How we live, my Meg and me,
How we love and how we ‘gree,
I care na by how few may see-
  Whistle owre the lave o’t.

Wha I wish were maggots’ meat,
Dish’d up in her winding sheet,
I could write-but Meg may see’t;
  Whistle owre the lave o’t.

1. Lovely Davies
2. The Flowery Banks of Cree
3. Castle Gordon
4. Sleep’st Thou, or Wak’st Thou
5. Weary Fa’ You, Duncan Gray

Распечатать (To print)

Количество обращений к стихотворению: 2476

Последние стихотворения

To English version