Luyện nghe bài hát Chylde Owlet

CHYLDE
Lady sits in her bower
A her silken seam
A bonnie for Chylde Owlet
As he oot and in
His was fair, lang was his hair
ca'd him to come nigh
Oh ye maun cuckold Lord
For a' his and kye
Oh lady, your tongue for shame
That such a thing e'er be
How could I cuckold Ronald
And me his son
Then ta'en oot a wee penknife
lay beside her bed
And pricked hersel below her
Which made her body
Lord Ronald's come her bower
Whaur she did mak' her
Oh, is a' this blood, he says
That sparks on your hearth
Chylde Owlet, your sister's son
Is new gane my bower
Gin I been a good woman
I'd hae Chylde Owlet's whore
Then he has young Chylde Owlet
Cast him in strang
And a his men a held
To work Chylde wrang
Some said Chylde should be hung
Some said that he burn
Some they would hae Chylde Owlet
Between horses torn
There are horses in my stand
Can rin speedily
It's ye maun tae my stable
And wile oot far me
put a horse to ilka foot
and ain tae hand
And sent them oot Elkin Moor
As fast as they could
wasnae grass nor heather knowe
Nor broom nor whin
But drappit wi' Chylde blood
And pieces o' his
There stane on Elkin Moor
Nor yet a piece o'
But drappit wi' Chylde Owlet's
And o' his flesh
Child
by Peggy Seeger and Ewan MacColl on Blood & Roses
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