Folk Songs of Many Peoples, Volumen2Florence Hudson Botsford Womans Press, 1922 |
Términos y frases comunes
ALICE STONE BLACKWELL Allegretto Allegro Allegro moderato AMEEN RIHANI Andante Aoleo Arranged by Franklin birds boys Camacha dance dear Edwin Markham English version fair Fiorin foller Franklin Robinson girl Gwen hear heart heyah hill joyous feast KAHLIL GIBRAN kiss Lento LEONORA SPEYER lil Lolo lio ba lone lover maid maiden Margaret Widdemer meine liebe melodies Merlindy Moderato mother mountain Mugur mugurel MUNA LEE night PADRAIC COLUM peace cup PHOUTRIDES Pierlala rose Sekhti shepherd SHIGEYOSHI OBATA sing sleep songs sorrow spinning star sweet tell tempo thee thou Translation by ARISTIDES Translation by MUNA Translation by SHIGEYOSHI version by ALICE version by Anna version by GERTRUDE version by Margaret Weggis WITTER BYNNER young καὶ νὰ τὴν τὸ իմ אַ און איז דעם וועט אונז וועלען מיר מיט ניט קיין يا
Pasajes populares
Página 9 - Many de songs I sung. When I was playing wid my brudder Happy was I ; Oh, take me to my kind old mudder ! Dere let me live and die. One little hut among de bushes, One dat I love, Still sadly to my memory rushes, No matter where I rove.
Página 9 - Way down upon de Swanee Ribber, Far, far away, Dere's wha my heart is turning ebber, Dere's wha de old folks stay. All up and down de whole creation Sadly I roam, Still longing for de old plantation. And for de old folks at home.
Página 111 - twas like a sweet dream, To sit in the roses and hear the bird's song. That bower and its music I never forget, But oft when alone, in the bloom of the year, I think — is the nightingale singing there yet ? Are the roses still bright by the calm BENDEMEER?
Página 111 - And a dew was distill'd from their flowers that gave All the fragrance of summer, when summer was gone. Thus memory draws from delight, ere it dies, , An essence that breathes of it many a year ; Thus bright to my soul, as 'twas then to my eyes, Is that bower on the banks of the calm Bendemeer...
Página 159 - Es ist ein Schnitter, heißt der Tod, Hat Gewalt vom großen Gott, Heut wetzt er das Messer, Es schneidt schon viel besser, Bald wird er drein schneiden, Wir müssen's nur leiden. Hüte dich, schöns Blümelein! Was heut noch grün und frisch da steht, Wird morgen schon hinweggemäht: Die edel Narzissel, Die englische Schlüssel, Die schön Hyazinthen, Die türkischen Binden.
Página 12 - O bury me not on the lone prairie." These words came low and mournfully From the pallid lips of a youth who lay On his dying bed at the close of day.
Página 10 - As I walked out in the streets of Laredo, As I walked out in Laredo one day, I spied a poor cowboy wrapped up in white linen, Wrapped up in white linen as cold as the clay.
Página 12 - O bury me not on the lone prairie, Where the wild coyotes will howl o'er me, Where the buzzards beat and the wind goes free; O bury me not on the lone prairie!
Página 163 - Ich denke, was ich will Und was mich beglücket, Doch alles in der Still Und wie es sich schicket. Mein Wunsch und Begehren Kann niemand verwehren. Es bleibet dabei: Die Gedanken sind frei.
Página 10 - I see by your outfit that you are a cowboy," These words he did say as I boldly stepped by. "Come sit down beside me and hear my sad story; I was shot in the breast and I know I must die.