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Dursun TOMBULDursun...
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sing

La Bella Donna della Mia Mente

Oscar Wilde

My limbs are wasted with a flame,
My feet are sore with travelling,
For, calling on my Lady's name
My lips have now forgot to sing.

O Linnet in the wild-rose brake

My Sweet Brown Gal

W'en de clouds is hangin' heavy in de sky,
An' de win's 's a-taihin' moughty vig'rous by,
I don' go a-sighin' all erlong de way;
I des' wo'k a-waitin' fu' de close o' day.

All gentle folks who owe a grudge

All gentle folks who owe a grudge

All gentle folks who owe a grudge
To any living thing,
Open your ears and stay your trudge
Whilst I in dudgeon sing.

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