O’er the Mountains High He Went
Folk Song
O’er the mountains high he went,
Love, love!
In the meadows above
I seek for my love.
With a weary sigh he went.
Love, love!
To fight thou art gone
While I stay here alone.
Neither quail nor partridge stirred.
Love, love!
In the meadows above
I look for my love
And he left without a word.
Love, love!
To fight thou art gone
While I stay here alone.
Like a flower’s fragrance sweet
He came past, and vanished fleet.
I beheld him and I loved—
But we never more shall meet.
When my lover rode away
Not a farewell did I say;
None there is to help him now—
Sourb Carapet,1 bless his way!
Notes
1 The patron saint of lovers.