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Where my lover abides, I abide,
When absent, I summon him near;
When far, to hispresence I glide,
For him all my jewels I wear.
Does he seek the green vale—does he lead
His charger to graze and to rest?
I gather the grass for his steed,
The freshest and greenest best.
At evening with him I retreat
To the pear-tree, and gathering there
The corn-ears, he binds round the wheat,
Till labour hath brighten'd his hair.[1]Matko, matičko.
Mother! sweet mother mine,
Gold is that heart of thine:
- ↑ Gen se mu bleyskaly wlásky—till his hair shines.
