O, bonnie Bessie Logan
Is dainty, young, and fair;
The very wind that's blawin',
It lingers in her hair.
Sae lichtsome is her footstep
As she comes o'er the lea;
But bonnie Bessie Logan
Is owre young for me.
O, bonnie Bessie Logan,
The lads are at the stile,
Or half-way up the loanin'
To catch your winsome smile;
I fain wad be amang them,
If sic a thing could be,
But bonnie Bessie Logan
Is owre young for me.
O, bonnie Bessie Logan,
I saw you late yestreen;
A rose was on your bosom,
And love was in your een.
I doot the lad that pu'd it
Is sure to win his plea,
For bonnie Bessie Logan
Is owre young for me.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem