گیت کے بول کے نقاط
ENاصل بول
ترجمہ ابھی دستیاب نہیں۔ اصل بول دکھائے جا رہے ہیں۔
O you, black lambs three
With your crooked horns
In the woods you tramped
From the early morn.
On your fiddles you played
For our child to hear
What sweet music you made
For our baby to cheer
The owl she hooted
And her wings she beat
And the goar in his shed
He stamped his feet
