Oh Danny Boy, the pipes, the pipes are calling
From glen to glen, and down the mountainside.
The summer's gone, and all the roses falling.
'Tis you, 'tis you must go and I must bide.
But come ye back when summer's in the meadow
Or when the valley's hushed and white with snow,
'Tis I'll be here in sunshine or in shadow.
Oh Danny Boy, Oh Danny Boy, I love you so.
And if ye come, when all the flowers are dying
And I am dead, as dead I well may be.
Ye'll come and find the place where I am lying
And kneel and say an Ave there for me.
And I shall hear, though soft you tread above me,
And o'er my grave will warmer, sweeter be,
If ye'll now bend and tell me that you love me,
Then I shall sleep in peace until you come to me.
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Komentarji | 1
cecil|1 mesec nazaj
Sem ga kar dala med priljubljene, saj mi je Irska ostala v lepem spominu, dežela in njena glasba.
