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English translation [10] Moj dilbere, kud’ se šećeš? Aj, što i mene ne povedeš? Povedi me u čaršiju, Aj, pa me prodaj bazardžiji Uzmi za me oku zlata Aj, pa pozlati dvoru vrata: My darling, where do you betake yourself? Oh, why don't you lead me there too? Lead me to the čaršija Oh, then sell me to the bazaar merchant. Take for me ...
"Mo Ghile Mear" (translated "My Gallant Darling", "My Spirited Lad" and variants) is an Irish song.The modern form of the song was composed in the early 1970s by Dónal Ó Liatháin (1934–2008), using a traditional air collected in Cúil Aodha, County Cork, and lyrics selected from Irish-language poems by Seán "Clárach" Mac Domhnaill (1691–1754).
"Macushla" is the title of an Irish song that was copyrighted in 1910, with music by Dermot Macmurrough (Harold R. White) and lyrics by Josephine V. Rowe. . The title is a transliteration of the Irish mo chuisle, meaning "my pulse" as used in the phrase a chuisle mo chroí, which means "pulse of my heart", and thus mo chuisle has come to mean "darling" or "sweetheart".
Poetic translation Sleep my darling, on my bosom, Harm will never come to you; Mother's arms enfold you safely, Mother's heart is ever true. As you sleep there's naught to scare you, Naught to wake you from your rest; Close those eyelids, little angel, Sleep upon your mother's breast. Sleep, my darling, night is falling Rest in slumber sound ...
Pretty little heaven, for it's my turn. (Refrain) An arrow in the air Pretty little heaven, Cupid shot. If he threw it playing, Pretty little heaven, he injured me. (Refrain) From the Sierra Morena, Darling, come down A pair of lovely black eyes; Darling, they are sneaking past. Refrain: Woe, woe, woe, woe, Sing and don’t cry, Because singing ...
The French in the title, along with "wish my French were good enough", is used as a refrain. It means "darling, I love you very much." When the song was written, "je vous aime" (using the respectful second person plural) was the normal way of saying "I love you" in French - until a threshold of intimacy had been reached, or in public
Slumber, slumber, O my darling baby, Gently rocked by Mother's gentle hand; Softly rest and safely slumber, While she swings thee by this cradle-band. Slumber, slumber, all so sweetly buried, Guarded by thy mother's loving arm; All her wishes, all possessions, And her love, shall shelter thee from harm. Slumber, slumber, warm thy nest and downy,
Darling, I am growing old, Silver threads among the gold, Shine upon my brow today, Life is fading fast away. But, my darling, you will be, Always young and fair to me, Yes, my darling, you will be Always young and fair to me. Chorus: Darling, I am growing old, Silver threads among the gold, Shine upon my brow today; Life is fading fast away.