Donne innamorate
John Anderson my jo, John,
When we were first aquent,
Your locks were like the raven,
Your bonnie brow was brent;
But now your brow is bald, John,
Your locks are like the snaw,
But blessings on your frosty pow,
John Anderson, my jo.
John Anderson my jo, John,
We clamb the hill thegither,
And mony a canty day, John,
We've had wi ane anither;
Now we maun totter down, John,
But hand in hand we'll go,
And sleep thegither at the foot,
When we were first aquent,
Your locks were like the raven,
Your bonnie brow was brent;
But now your brow is bald, John,
Your locks are like the snaw,
But blessings on your frosty pow,
John Anderson, my jo.
John Anderson my jo, John,
We clamb the hill thegither,
And mony a canty day, John,
We've had wi ane anither;
Now we maun totter down, John,
But hand in hand we'll go,
And sleep thegither at the foot,
John Anderson, my jo.
(Robert Burns, John Anderson, 1789; per precedenti versioni, vedi qui; per le esecuzioni musicali, vedi qui e qui)