Black is the Colour of My True Love's Hair But Black is the colour of my true love's hair. His face is like some rosy fair, The prettiest face and the neatest hands, I love the ground whereon he stands.
I love my love and well he knows, I love the ground whereon he goes, If you no more on earth I see, I can't serve you as you have me.
The winter's passed and the leaves are green, The time is passed that we have seen, But still I hope the time will come When you and I shall be as one.
I go to the Clyde for to mourn and weep, But satisfied I never could sleep. I'll write to you a few short lines, I'll suffer death ten thousand times.
So fare you well, my own true love The time has passed, but I wish you well. But still I hope the time will come When you and I will be as one.
I love my love and well he knows, I love the ground whereon he goes. The prettiest face, the neatest hands, I love the ground whereon he stands.
5 comments:
Ωωωωωω!
υπέροχο!
καλώστη μου!ευχαριστούμε!
η ανάλυση είναι χαμηλή, δεν ανέβαινε αλλιώς, αλλά κι εμένα μ'αρέσει :-)
φιλιά πολλά και καλημέρα
αγγίζει βαθιά και ανάλαφρα. αφήνει χώρο.
ευχαριστώ πολύ μάκη, κάπως σαν φευγαλέα χειρονομία
(το μουρμουράω όλη μέρα σήμερα :-))
Black is the Colour of My True Love's Hair
But Black is the colour of my true love's hair.
His face is like some rosy fair,
The prettiest face and the neatest hands,
I love the ground whereon he stands.
I love my love and well he knows,
I love the ground whereon he goes,
If you no more on earth I see,
I can't serve you as you have me.
The winter's passed and the leaves are green,
The time is passed that we have seen,
But still I hope the time will come
When you and I shall be as one.
I go to the Clyde for to mourn and weep,
But satisfied I never could sleep.
I'll write to you a few short lines,
I'll suffer death ten thousand times.
So fare you well, my own true love
The time has passed, but I wish you well.
But still I hope the time will come
When you and I will be as one.
I love my love and well he knows,
I love the ground whereon he goes.
The prettiest face, the neatest hands,
I love the ground whereon he stands.
http://www.rampantscotland.com/songs/blsongs_blackcolour.htm
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