Archie Fisher все тексты (слова) песен, переводы, видео, клипы

I’ll tell you an old tale I learned in a rhyme, There are four women in every man’s heart.

Though the ages of love they pass one at a time, Hold you together, tear you apart.

As you carelessly gather the wildflowers of youth, A maid in the meadow will run by your side.

She will tell you of tenderness, courage, and truth, Innocence blooms with the flowers that die.

I wandered by a brookside, I wandered by a mill
I could not hear the water, the murmuring was still
Nor the sound of any grasshopper or the song of any bird
But the beating of my own heart was the only sound I heard

I lay beneath the elm tree to watch his long long shade
And as it grew the longer I did not feel afraid
I listened for a footfall, I listened for a word

Sing ye o' the cuillins of Skye
Of Harris and Eigg and fair Iona
Joy of my heart Eallann Mulla

Whether I wander East or West
Waking or dreaming thou art with me
Joy of my heart Eallann Mulla

Waiting on a station platform for a change of trains
Seems whenever I'm in Preston that it always rains
Just a day for moving on to play another town
I've no way of knowing where tonight I'll lay me down

Merry England, oh your heart is warm, your hands are cold
And I'd like to think I'm growing up as well as growing old
It's been weeks since I've been smiled on by a face I knew

My parents married me o'er young
To an old carle both bald and dumb
His love was done and mine new sprung
An' I'll fly the plains wi' my laddie-o.
Come, bonnie laddie, mount and go
Hey, bonnie laddie, mount and go
Come, bonnie laddie, mount and go
Go, an' I'll go wi' ye o.

Noo, as I roved out one summer's morn
Amang the lofty hills and moorland and mountain,
It was there I spied a lovely maid,
Whilst I with others was out a-hunting.

No shoes nor stockings did she wear;
Neither had she hat nor had she feather,
But her golden locks, aye, in ringlets rare

There were twa bonnie maidens, and three bonnie maidens,
Cam' ower the Minch, and cam' ower the main,
Wi' the wind for their way and the corrie for their hame,
And they're dearly welcome tae Skye again.

Come alang, come alang, wi' your boatie and your song,
Tae my hey! bonnie maidens, my twa bonnie maids!
The nicht, it is dark, and the redcoat is gane,

Арчи Фишер - легендарная фигура в мире шотландской народной музыки: все в Шотландии и Ирландии, имеющие хоть какое-то отношение к музыке, называют его своим любимым певцом; как музыкально, так и философски Арчи оказал на всех огромное влияние... Кельтская традиция - настолько часть его самого, что она не сразу очевидна в его песнях. Он не столько играет традицию, сколько сам ею является. Когда Фишер поет старинные песни, они - от первого лица, а когда пишет свои собственные, они могли бы быть написаны кем и когда угодно... Фишер поет - и в нем совершенно нет внешнего блеска, он как вереск на холмах Шотландии. Простота его сродни простоте Пушкина. И голос его - бальзам для измученного сердца.