Резултати претраге страна 3

King Richard

Through lonesome, desolate splendor of woods
A rider gallops unabated.
He blows the horn, he sings and he laughs
With joy, carefree and contented.
 
His armor is thick and his posture is strong,
Much stronger is his dedication.
King Richard is he, Richard Cœur de Lion,
The Lord's army blooms in elation.
 
“Welcome to England!” they say out loud -
The green leafy trees by the waters -
“We are pleased and happy, O King, that you have
Sprung free from that Austrian fortress!”
 
The King breathes free air, in his heart he is glad,
He feels born anew and enlivened.
That damp dungeon smell makes no longer him sad,
He, spurring his horse, is triumphant.
 

Thou art, as is a flower

Versions: #1
Thou art, as is a flower,
so meek and pure and fine,
I look at thee and sadness
steals o'er the heart of mine.
 
I feel that both my hands softly
thy hair, thy head should seek,
praying that God may preserve thee
so pure and fine and meek.
 

Take to the road!

If you are let down and betrayed by a girl,
Don't bother but find a new one.
Much better though - you took to the road,
Tie up your backpack and wander!
 
You will quickly come up to a blue awesome lake,
Encircled by big weeping willows.
You may here cry about your little ache,
Your intimate pains and sorrows.
 
And when you that smashing height will have climbed,
You will be heavily sighing.
Still, as you get to that rocky peak,
You will hear the eagles cawing.
 
And there you are – as an Eagle yourself!
You are as if a newborn.
You feel at ease, you feel you have not lost
That much down there below!