Love love

1. Love, love, Cursed torment, ; Why didn't you bloom on the top of every tree? ; ; 2. On the top of every tree, On the leaves of every branch, ; How could every poor young man have torn it off. ; ; 3. I tore it off too, I made it wither, ; Instead of a gentle dove I caught a Wild Dove. ; ; b)1. Put it on my rose, put it on, Your blazing fire, ; Let me warm my weak hands. ; ; 2. Now I have put it on, Yet it falls asleep, ; There is no love, That never fades. ; ; c) I would take you, my rose, If you could do it, ; You could spin a thread from a drop of buttercup.