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The lovely lass o' Inverness

Language: Scottish (Scots)

The lovely lass o' Inverness,
  Nae joy nor pleasure can she see;
For e'en [to]1 morn she cries, (Alas!)
  And ay the saut tear blins her e'e:

« Drumossie moor, Drumossie day,
  A waefu' day it was to me !
For there I lost my father dear,
  My father dear and brethren three.

Their winding-sheet the bluidy clay,
  Their graves are growing green to see,
And by them lies the dearest lad
  That ever blest a woman's e'e!

Now wae to thee, thou cruel lord,
  A bluidy man I trow thou be,
For monie a heart thou has made sair
  That ne'er did wrang to thine or thee! »



Translation(s): GER FRE ITA GER GER

View original text (without footnotes)
Confirmed with The Complete Poetical Works of Robert Burns, Cambridge edition, Boston and New York, Houghton Mifflin Company, 1897, page 250.

1 Beethoven: "and"

Submitted by Pierre Mathé

Authorship

Musical settings (art songs, Lieder, mélodies, (etc.), choral pieces, and other vocal works set to this text), listed by composer (not necessarily exhaustive)

Set in German (Deutsch), a translation by Ferdinand Freiligrath (1810 - 1876) , no title, from Gedichte, in Robert Burns. Elf Lieder [later 13 Lieder], no. 2 ITA FRE Set in German (Deutsch), a translation by Anonymous/Unidentified Artist , title unknown ITA FRE [text unavailable]
Available translations, adaptations, and transliterations (if applicable):
    * GER German (Deutsch) (Anonymous/Unidentified Artist) , title 1: "Die holde Maid von Inverness"
    * FRE French (Français) (Isabelle Cecchini) , title 1: "La jolie fille d'Inverness", copyright © 2003, (re)printed on this website with kind permission
    * ITA Italian (Italiano) (Ferdinando Albeggiani) , title 1: "L'amabile fanciulla di Inverness", copyright © 2005, (re)printed on this website with kind permission

Text added to the website between May 1995 and September 2003.

Notes about what "text verified" means can be found here.

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Die süße Dirn' von Inverness

Language: German (Deutsch)

Die süße Dirn' von Inverness
Wird nun und nimmer wieder froh;
Ihr einz'ger Gang ist in die Mess',
Sie weint und seufzt, und sagt nur: O!

Drumossie Moor, Drumossie Tag;
O bitt'rer Tag, o blut'ger Moor!
Wo kalt und starr mein Vater lag,
Wo ich der Brüder drei verlor.

Ihr Lailach ist der blut'ge Klee,
Ihr Grab ist grün vom ersten Kraut,
Der schmuckste Bursche liegt dabei,
Den Mädchenaugen je geschaut!

Nun wehe Dir, der Du die Schlacht gewanst,
Und sä'test blut'ge Saat!
Manch Herz hast Du betrübt gemacht,
das Dir doch nichts zu Leide tat.



Authorship

Based on

Musical settings (art songs, Lieder, mélodies, (etc.), choral pieces, and other vocal works set to this text), listed by composer (not necessarily exhaustive)

Text added to the website: 2006-04-05.