I love my Jean - Robert Burns

Anda alegria no vento
sempre que vem do sol-pôr:
lá donde vive a serrana
que me enfeitiçou d’amor…
Lá nos montes, pelas fontes,
pelos pinhais, vai sozinha…
A cada momento, o vento
me faz lembrar — Joaninha!

Vejo-a nas florinhas tenras,
que dá graça de as olhar;
ouço-a no trilo das aves
que põe bruxedo no ar:
a papoila que floresce
por entre a messe, ou a vinha,
o rouxinol que gorjeia,
só me dizem — Joaninha!

(original)

Of all the airts the wind can blaw
I dearly like the west
For there the bonnie Lassie lives
The Lassie I love best
There’s wild-woods grow, and rivers row
And mony a hill between
But day and night my fancy’s flight
Is ever way my Jean

I see her in the Dewy flowers
I see her sweet and fair
I hear her in the tuneful birds
I hear her charm the air
There’s not a bonnie flower, that springs
By a fountain, shaw, or green
There’s not a bonnie bird that sings
But minds me o‚ my Jean

Robert Burns (b. 25 January 1759, Alloway, Ayrshire, Scotland – d. 21 July 1796, Dumfries, Scotland)