(testo Tradizionale inglese / musica Roberto Fuiano)
"Cold blows the wind tonight my love
cold are the drops of rain:
the very first love that I ever had
in green wood he was slain.
I’ll do as much for my true love
as any young woman may;
I’ll sit and mourn upon his grave
a twelve-month and a day".
When a twelve-month and a day were up
his body straight arose: "What brings you weeping
oer my grave that I get no repose?"
"What is that you want of me
and will not let me sleep?
your saltern tears they trickle down
and wet my winding-sheet".
"What is that I want of thee
o what of thee in thy grave?
A kiss from off your lily-white lips
and that is all I crave".
"Cold are my lips in death, sweet heart
my breath is earthly strong ; if you do touch
my clay-cold lips your time will not be long".
"O think upon the garden of love
where you and I did walk ;
the fairest flowers that blossomd there
is withered on the stalk.
The stalk will bear no leaves, sweet-heart
the ...

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