Snow lie deep, but never so deep As drift the snows on me.Hurt heart break, but never so break As break and bury me.Breath be bitter, but never again So fierce as spent on me.Thought be bitter and words taste bitter As salt on the tongue at sea,But never so bitter a flower as she – Take from me.
When I am old and my quick blood is chilled,
And all my thoughts are grey as my grey hair,
for I could board tonight
to any of those unearthly destinations
whatever train I chose
Thaim that socht eftir me noo flee awa,
/ Thaim that cam creepin barfit i the snaw.
/ Ah kent them gentil, meek an…
‘A hurt so small,’
/ Say you,
/ ‘A thread of grey
/ On blue,
/ So slight a thing