Жаклинка (jacklinka) wrote,

В копилку фольклора

This song tells of a plain simple man from the countryside of Ireland, who goes to seek work in London but misses his homeland , As I mentioned below are the lyrics just incase you want to sing along a thing they do often in the pubs of Ireland,

Oh, Mary, this London's a wonderful sight
With people here working by day and by night
They don't sow potatoes nor barley nor wheat
But there's gangs of them diggin' for gold in the street
At least when I asked them, that's what I was told
So I just took a hand at this diggin' for gold
But for all that I've found there, I might as well be
In the place where the dark Mourne sweeps down to the sea

I believe that when writin' a wish you expressed
As to how the fine ladies of London were dressed
Well if you'll believe me, when asked to a ball
They don't wear no tops to their dresses at all
Oh, I've seen them myself and you could not in truth
Tell if they were bound for a ball or a bath
Don't go startin' them fashions now, Mary McRee,
In the place where the dark Mourne sweeps down to the sea

There's beautiful girls here, oh, never you mind
Beautiful shapes Nature never designed
Lovely complexions of roses and cream
But let me remark with regard to the same
And if at those roses you venture to sip
Why the colour might all come away on your lip
So I'll wait for the wild rose that's waitin' for me
In the place where the dark Mourne sweeps down to the sea

You remember young Denny McClaren, of course
Well he's over here with the rest of the force
I saw him one day as he stood on the strand
Stopped all the traffic with a wave of his hand
And as we were talking of days that are gone
The whole town of London stood there to look on
But for all his great powers, he's wishful like me
To be back where the dark Mourne sweeps down to the sea

И пусть здесь еще будет Scarborough Fair, именно с этими картинами.
Tags: Cлушать и слышать

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