Luyện nghe bài hát The Dancing of the Lord of Weir

By Williamson

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

In the part of the year
when men begin to fuel against the
coming
hoover ring hard on frosty ground
begins our

for centuries we alone high on the moors
herding the deer for milk and for leather
and
humans seldom nigh
for we with our held them at bay
and with gifts of wine and grain did
us

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

she is
she is snatched
through watery meads our lovely

she of the eyes
she of the wild
snatched up to the saddle of the lord of
who has his castle upon a crag
a league

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

into his sorry hall we
was our daughter bound near his chair
"come a measure!"
"sir at we will!"
and we began to sing and
to dance in rings and faster turn
no man within that hall could his seat
but must dance and leap
against his

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

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