André Rieu [지휘, 바이올린]

Es de klanke van de aovendklok
weer juub'lend es muziek
euver os Limburgs lendje goan
dan veule veer os riek
En door de aovendzon besjtroald
kniele keenjer veur 't kruus
dat-ste allein in Limburg nog
langs eed're Zandjweg zuus:

Wie sjoen os Limburg is
begrip toch neemes
allein de zuuderling
dae Limburg leef is
want do'or de jaore heen
blif Limburg onbetwis
't stjokske Nederland
dat 't sjoensten is

Es ein zilv'rig lintje-n-is de Maas
door berg en bosj omzuimp
woo eed're zuuderling dae in
de vraemde-n-is van druimp
Want velt 't laave soms nest met
en zeuks-ste nog get gelok
blief aeven in gedachte sjtoan
en dink aan Limburg trok:

Wie sjoen os Limburg is
begrip toch neemes
allein de zuuderling
dae Limburg leef is
want do'or de jaore heen
blif Limburg onbetwis
't stjokske Nederland
dat 't sjoenste-n-is

Es de klanke van de aovendklok
weer juub'lend es muziek
euver os Limburgs lendje goan
dan veule veer os riek
En door de aovendzon besjtroald
kniele keenjer veur 't kruus
dat-ste allein in Limburg nog
langs eed're Zandjweg zuus:

Wie sjoen os Limburg is
begrip toch neemes
allein de zuuderling
dae Limburg leef is
want do'or de jaore heen
blif Limburg onbetwis
't stjokske Nederland
dat 't sjoensten is

Es ein zilv'rig lintje-n-is de Maas
door berg en bosj omzuimp
woo eed're zuuderling dae in
de vraemde-n-is van druimp
Want velt 't laave soms nest met
en zeuks-ste nog get gelok
blief aeven in gedachte sjtoan
en dink aan Limburg trok:

Wie sjoen os Limburg is
begrip toch neemes
allein de zuuderling
dae Limburg leef is
want do'or de jaore heen
blif Limburg onbetwis
't stjokske Nederland
dat 't sjoenste-n-is

Some say love, it is a river
that drowns the tender reed.
Some say love, it is a razor
that leaves your soul to bleed.
Some say love, it is a hunger,
an endless aching need.

I say love, it is a flower,
and you it's only seed.
It's the heart afraid of breaking
that never learns to dance.
It's the dream afraid of waking
that never takes the chance.
It's the one who won't be taken,
who cannot seem to give,
and the sould afraid of dyin'
that never learns to live.

When the night has been too lonely
and the road has been to long,
and you think that love is only
for the lucky and the strong,
just remember in the winter
far beneath the bitter snows
lies the seed that with the sun's love
in the spring becomes the rose

Some say love, it is a river
that drowns the tender reed.
Some say love, it is a razor
that leaves your soul to bleed.
Some say love, it is a hunger,
an endless aching need.

I say love, it is a flower,
and you it's only seed.
It's the heart afraid of breaking
that never learns to dance.
It's the dream afraid of waking
that never takes the chance.
It's the one who won't be taken,
who cannot seem to give,
and the sould afraid of dyin'
that never learns to live.

When the night has been too lonely
and the road has been to long,
and you think that love is only
for the lucky and the strong,
just remember in the winter
far beneath the bitter snows
lies the seed that with the sun's love
in the spring becomes the rose