Beginners
Experts
Burns Supper
Top Features
Discussion Forum
Newsletter
Poems & Songs
The Letters
Federation
E- Membership
Schools
Contributions
Links
Search the Site
Scottish History
The Burns Shop

Translation
Index

Sweet Afton

 

Burns Original

Standard English Translation


1.
Flow gently, sweet Afton, among thy green braes!
Flow gently, I'll sing thee a song in thy praise!
My Mary's asleep by the murmuring stream --
Flow gently, sweet Afton, disturb not her dream!
2.
Thou stock dove whose echo resounds thro' the glen,
Ye wild whistling blackbirds in yon thorny den
Thou green-crested lapwing, thy screaming forbear --
I charge you, disturb not my slumbering fair!
3.
How lofty, sweet Afton, thy neighbouring hills,
Far mark'd with the courses of clear, winding rills!
There daily I wander, as noon rises high,
My flocks and my Mary's sweet cot in my eye.
4.
How pleasant thy banks and green vallies below,
Where wild in the woodlands the primrose blow:
There oft, as mild ev'ning weeps over the lea,
The sweet-scented birk shades my Mary and
me.
5.
Thy crystal stream, Afton, how lovely it glides,
And winds by the cot where my Mary resides!
How wanton thy waters her snowy feet lave,
As, gathering sweet flowerets, she stems thy clear wave!
6.
Flow gently, sweet Afton, among thy green braes!
Flow gently, sweet river, the theme of my lays!
My Mary's asleep by thy murmuring stream --
Flow gently, sweet Afton, disturb not her dream!

 



Flow gently, sweet Afton, among your green slopes!
Flow gently, I will sing you a song in your praise!
My Mary is asleep by the murmuring stream -
Flow gently, sweet Afton, disturb not her dream!


You stock dove whose echo resounds through the glen,
You wild whistling blackbirds in yonder thorny den
You green crested lapwing, your screaming forbear -
I charge you, disturb not my slumbering fair!


How lofty, sweet Afton, your neighbouring hills,
Far marked with the courses of clear, winding rills!
There daily I wander, as noon rises high,
My flocks and my Mary's sweet cottage in my eye.


How pleasant thy banks and green valleys below,
Where wild in the woodlands the primrose blow:
There often, as mild evening weeps over the lea,
The sweet scented birch trees shades my Mary and me.


Your crystal stream, Afton, how lovely it glides,
And winds by the cottage where my Mary resides!
How sportive your waters her snowy feet wash,
As, gathering sweet flowerets, she stems thy clear wave!

Flow gently, sweet Afton, among your green slopes!
Flow gently, sweet river, the theme of my poem!
My Mary is asleep by your murmuring stream -
Flow gently, sweet Afton, disturb not her dream!

 

2004 WBC. Under no circumstances can any  of the contents of this site be copied, reproduced,  or represented without prior written consent.