Traditional - Black is the colour [tekst, tłumaczenie i interpretacja piosenki]

But Black is the colour of my true love's hair
His face is like some rosy fair
The prettiest face and the neatest hands
I love the ground whereon he stands

I love my love and well he knows
I love the ground whereon he goes
If you no more on earth I see
I can't serve you as you have me

The winter's passed and the leaves are green
The time is passed that we have seen
But still I hope the time will come
When you and I shall be as one

I go to the Clyde for to mourn and weep
But satisfied I never could sleep
I'll write to you a few short lines
I'll suffer death one thousand times

So fare you well, my own true love
The time has passed, but I wish you well
But still I hope the time will come
When you and I will be as one

I love my love and well he knows
I love the ground whereon he goes
The prettiest face, the neatest hands
I love the ground whereon he stands