Роберт Таннахилл (Robert Tannahill)

The Braes o’ Gleniffer

KEEN blaws the win’ o’er the braes o’ Gleniffer,
  The auld castle-turrets are covered with snaw;
How changed frae the time when I met wi’ my lover
  Amang the broom bushes by Stanley green shaw!
The wild-flowers o’ summer were spread a’ sae bonnie,
  The mavis sang sweet frae the green birken tree;
But far to the camp they hae marched my dear Johnnie,
  And now it is winter wi’ nature and me.

Then ilk thing around us was blithesome and cheerie,
  Then ilk thing around us was bonnie and braw;
Now naething is heard but the wind whistling drearie,
  And naething is seen but the wide-spreading snaw.
The trees are a’ bare, and the birds mute and dowie;
  They shake the cauld drift frae their wings as they flee;
And chirp out their plaints, seeming wae for my Johnnie;
  ’T is winter wi’ them, and ’t is winter wi’ me.

Yon cauld sleety cloud skiffs alang the bleak mountain,
  And shakes the dark firs on the steep rocky brae,
While down the deep glen bawls the snaw-flooded fountain,
  That murmured sae sweet to my laddie and me.
It ’s no its loud roar on the wintry wind swellin’,
  It ’s no the cauld blast brings the tear i’ my e’e;
For, O gin, I saw but my bonnie Scots callan,
  The dark days o’ winter were summer to me.

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