(French folk tune, Lyrics Anonymous, publ. 1921)
The farmer on the lowland ever paces to and fro
Sowing barley in the springtime, ever hoping it will grow;
Sowing barley as he paces in the springtime of the year;
When the fruit trees are in blossom, sowing barley far and near.
The farmer on the lowland ever paces to and fro,
Reaping barley in the autumn, leaving stacks all in a row;
Reaping barley as he paces in the autumn of the year;
When the grain is ripe and golden, reaping barley far and near.
Extras for Plus Members
- Song with chords (PDF)
- MIDI file
- Listen to the song