Montag, 4. Januar 2021

Iarla Ò Lionárd


My heart beat faintly And my efforts are weakened A grief too deep for words Fills my breast For I am to be banished From the fair hills of Erin Aimless my life then And tragic my fate I recall, my soul's delight In days gone by My love surrendered To your bewitching gaze Merciful God I would far rather perish Here with my own folk And my fair-haired boy The fair land of Erin Lies in bondage so brutal The sad, tormented Prisioner of her foes Is it her fate then To be forever weeping That proud little isle Of the saint and the bard? I should this my prayer To great God our Father Let death and destruction Be the fate of John Who banished so many Across the great water And parted forever My fair lad and me