The form of this poem/song is borrowed from the old English-Scottish ballad called "Lord Randall".


Where Is Your True Love Tonight

Oh, where is she now, your true love, my son?
And where might she be, when the day is done?
She's gone to the tree, where the fruit is so sweet
I'll see her in the evening, when we sit down to eat

Oh, where is she now, your true love, my son?
And where might she be, when the night is done?
She's gone to the field, where the moonlight is right
I'll see her in the morning, when the sunshine is bright

Oh, where is she now, your true love, my son?
And where might she be, when the winter is done?
She's gone to her mother, who's ill and so weak
I'll see her in the springtime, when we bathe in the creek

Oh, where is she now, your true love, my son?
And where might she be, when the days are done?
She's gone to her father, who cares for the sheep
I'll see her by the river, when we lie down to sleep

Copyright © 2011 Göran Gustafsson. All rights reserved




Poetry by Göran Gustafsson
Read 196 times
Written on 2014-08-21 at 22:52

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Perfectly rhymed and metered, and haunting to boot.
2014-08-22