The Wee Drap (David Rorie Poems)
He's a muckle man, Sandy, he's mair nor sax fitA size that's no' handy for wark i' the pit,But frae ...
He's a muckle man, Sandy, he's mair nor sax fitA size that's no' handy for wark i' the pit,But frae ...
Altijd zal ik uw blinde beeld bewaren,Jeugdige grijsaard, die mijn oude jeugdMet uwe teng're sterkte hebt verheugd En met uw ...
The hills in the Hielands are bonnie, Wi' the licht an' the shadow at play;An' the winds that mak' redder ...
Twa miles frae here, or maybe mair, A herd's hoose sits atween twa wuds,An' there a lassie bides as fair ...
Fareweel to my hame at the fit o' the glen,To the red rowan tree hingin' owre at the en',To the ...
Auld Johnnie Noddle sleeps through a' the day,Sleeps until the sun gangs doon an' a' the licht away;Then he waukens ...
I dream this nicht, an' my thochts gae back To that happy time sae early,When we twa stood in the ...
Row, Kello, row frae rocky linns, An' through amang thy grassy braes,Where gowans grow an' hawthorns blaw, An' sunshine sleeps ...
The stars are steady abune;I' the water they flichter and flee;But, steady aye, luikin doonThey ken theirsels i' the sea.A' ...
The hills aroon' oor ain wee toon Are no' like ither hills to me,They're sweet to see in simmer licht, ...
O, Cairn row saft where Maudie bides, Row saft as saft can be,There's no' a flower upon thy banks Can ...
EIN Gestirn wie ein Tag; und dahinter ein Rand, beriihrt und bezogen von Licht und Geleucht,Das ging oder kam, das ...
Saft fa's the sun on Anwoth Hills When simmer smiles an' a' is fair;But what is licht to them or ...
She's an awfu' lassie, Jenny, No' her like in a' the toon,For her heid is fu' o' mischief, And her ...
O! can'le licht's baith braw and brichtAt e'en when bars are drawn,But can'le licht's a dowie sichtWhen dwinin' i' the ...
Ik min u, smeulend vuur,ik min uw stille dichtheid,waarin het sluim'rend licht leitte wachten op zijn uur!Ik min u in ...
This fell when dinner-time was done -- 'Twixt the first an' the second rub -- That oor mon Jock cam' ...
RORATE coeli desuper! Hevins, distil your balmy schouris! For now is risen the bricht day-ster, Fro the rose Mary, flour ...
THE wind may blaw the lee-gang way And aye the lift be mirk an' gray, An deep the moss and ...
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