|
Come all young fellows that carry a gun, |
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Beware of late shooting when the |
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Daylight is done. |
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It is my reckoning that many hazards |
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They may run. |
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I shot my true love at the setting of the |
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Sun. |
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In a shower of rain my darling did lie, |
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All under the bushes to keep herself dry. |
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Her head in her apron I thought her as a |
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Swan. |
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I shot my true love at the setting of the |
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Sun. |
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I'll fly from my country, I nowhere find my |
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Rest, |
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Because I've shot my own true love, like |
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A bird upon her nest. |
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Like lead in my heart lies the deed that I |
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Have done. |
|
I shot my true love at the setting of the |
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Sun. |
|
In the night my fair maid as a white swan |
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Appears. |
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She she says "Oh my true love quickly |
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Dry up those tears, |
|
"I freely forgive you for this paradise that |
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I've won, |
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"I was shot by my true love at the rising |
|
Of the sun". |
|
The years they pass leave me lonely and |
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Sad. |
|
I can never love again 'cause none |
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Make me glad. |
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I'll wait and expect you until my work |
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Down here is done, |
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Then I'll meet my true love at the setting |
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Of the sun |
