erich wolfgang korngold - desdemona's song lyrics
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the poor soul sat sighing by a sycamore tree
sing all a green willow:
her hand on her bosom, her head on her knee
sing willow, willow, willow:
the fresh streams ran by her, and murmur’d her moans;
sing willow, willow, willow;
her salt tears fell from her, and soften’d the stones;
sing willow, willow, willow;
sing all a green willow my garland must be
sing all a green willow;
let n0body blame him; his scorn i approve
sing willow, willow, willow
i call’d my love false love; but what said he then?
sing willow, willow, willow:
if i court moe women, you’ll couch with moe men!
sing willow, willow, willow
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