Robert Burns (Ðîáåðò Á¸ðíñ)

* * *

IT is na, Jean, thy bonnie face,
  Nor shape that I admire,
Although thy beauty and thy grace
  Might weel awake desire.
Something, in ilka part o’ thee,
  To praise, to love, I find;
But dear as is thy form to me,
  Still dearer is thy mind.

Nae mair ungenerous wish I hae,
  Nor stronger in my breast,
Than if I canna mak thee sae,
  At least to see thee blest.
Content am I, if Heaven shall give
  But happiness to thee:
And as wi’ thee I’d wish to live,
  For thee I’d bear to die.

1. Epitaph on a Noisy Polemic
2. Eppie M’Nab
3. Her Daddie Fforbad
4. Bannocks O’ Barley
5. The Chevalier’s Lament

Ðàñïå÷àòàòü ñòèõîòâîðåíèå (Poem to print)

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