(Traditional, arr. by J. Baez) In the pines, in the pines, where the sun never shines And you shiver when the cold wind blows My love, my love, what
So early in the spring. Her thoughts were gay and happy And the morning gay and fine, For her lover was a river boy From the river in the pines. Now
Traduction: Joan Baez. La rivière dans le Pines.
: (Traditional, arr. by J. Baez) In the pines, in the pines, where the sun never shines And you shiver when the cold wind blows My love, my love, what