Роберт Бернс (Robert Burns)

Farewell to Ballochmyle

THE CATRINE woods were yellow seen,
  The flowers decayed on Catrine lea,
Nae laverock sang on hillock green,
  But Nature sickened on the ee.
Through faded groves Maria sang,
  Hersel’ in beauty’s bloom the while,
And aye the wildwood echoes rang,
  Fareweel the Braes o’ Ballochmyle!

Low in your wintry beds, ye flowers,
  Again ye ’ll flourish fresh and fair;	
Ye birdies dumb, in withering bowers,
  Again ye ’ll charm the vocal air.
But here, alas! for me nae mair
  Shall birdie charm or floweret smile;
Fareweel the bonnie banks of Ayr,
  Fareweel, fareweel! sweet Ballochmyle!

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