Lad, come kiss me
Whaur the twa burns rin.
Am I no' sweet as honey,
Wild as gouden whin,
Slim as the rowan,
Lips like berries reid,
Fey as siller mune-floo'er
That sprang frae fairy seed?
Luve, come clasp me
Whaur the twa burns rin,-
A'but the white soul o' me
That ye can never win.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem