Black Is the Color (of My True Love's Hair)
John Jacob NilesOriginal | Irish transcreation: Gabriel Rosenstock |
BLACK IS THE COLOR (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. | BLACK IS THE COLOR (OF MY TRUE LOVE'S HAIR) black black black is the colour of my true love's hair his lips are something rosy fair the sweetest smile and the kindest hands I love the grass whereon he stands I love my love and well he knows I love the grass whereon he goes if he no more on earth will be 'twill surely be the end of me Dubh dubh dubh Dubh dubh dubh atá gruaig mo rúin is mo ghrá Mar rós atá a bhéilín tláith An gáire caoin is na lámha séimh Nach breá an féar ar ’seasann sé. Mo ghrá go deo! Is eol dó é Mo ghrá an féar ar ’suíonn sé Is mura mbeidh mo ghrá le m’ais Luigh domsa luí in uaigh thais. |