Claude Buchanan - Vine Mea Electa - текст песни (слова)

Vine, o vine, my chosen one.
 Vine that I have loved as my own.
 Vine, o vine, it was I who planted thee,
 chose thee, and planted thee.
 Why is thy sweetness turned to gall and bitterness?
 Vine, o vine, my chosen one.
 I fenced thee round, took hard stones away from thy path
 and built a tower in thy defence.
 Vine, o vine, my chosen one.