Luyện nghe bài hát The Dancing of the Lord of Weir

By Robin

Robin Chanter, bironne, chinese flute, jew's harp, bazooki, gong and vocal.

In the third of the year
when men begin to fuel against the
cold
hear hoover ring hard on frosty
begins our

for we lived alone high on the moors
the deer for milk and cheese for leather
and
humans came seldom
for we with our spells held at bay
and they gifts of wine and grain did
us

returning at evening the great mountains
out red hoods with bells lightly we run
before our own green hill
there we did

she is
she is snatched
through meads straying our lovely

she of the wild
she of the wild
snatched up to the of the lord of Weir
who has his high upon a crag
a league

upon the horse of air at we rode
to where Weir's castle lifts like a crippled
the moon
and form of minstrels brightly clad
we paced white ponies to the gate
and thereon
"we to sing unto my lord of Weir
a song."

into his hall we stepped
where was our daughter bound his chair
"come a measure!"
"sir at we will!"
and we to sing and play
to lightly dance in rings and faster
no man within that could keep his seat
but needs must dance and
his will

this was the way we danced them to the
and sent on their way into the world
where they will amain
till think one kind thought
for all I know may be dancing still

while we with our own
our hall
and in
made
the door.