Robert Burns (Роберт Бернс)

* * *

O THAT I had ne’er been married,
  I wad never had nae care;
Now I’ve gotten wife and bairns,
  An’ they cry crowdie ever mair.
    Ance crowdie, twice crowdie,
      Three times crowdie in a day;
    Gin ye crowdie ony mair,
      Ye’ll crowdie a’ my meal away.

Waefu want and hunger fley me,
  Glowrin’ by the hallen en’;
Sair I fecht them at the door,
  But aye I’m eerie they come ben.

1. Canst Thou Leave Me Thus?
2. As Down the Burn They Took Their Way
3. Stay My Charmer
4. Epistle to John Lapraix, An Old Scottish Bard
5. How Lang and Dreary

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