Luyện nghe bài hát The Dancing of the Lord of Weir

By Williamson

Robin Williamson: Chanter, bironne, chinese flute, harp, bazooki, gong and vocal.

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

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

returning at from the great mountains
out red hoods ring with bells we run
until before our own green
we did stand

she is
she is snatched
through watery meads our lovely

she of the wild
she of the hair
snatched up to the saddle of the of Weir
who has his castle high upon a
a away

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

his sorry 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 in rings and faster turn
no man that hall could keep his seat
but needs must and leap
against his

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

while we returned our own
our hall
and in
fast
the door.