MacPherson's Lament
Hamish ImlachOriginal | Versione di Robert Burns da www.robertburns.org |
MACPHERSON'S LAMENT Farewell, ye dungeons dark and strong, farewell, farewell to thee McPherson's life will no be long on yonder gallows tree Sae rantinly, sae wantonly, and sae dauntonly gaed he He played a tune and he danced around below the gallows tree There's some come here for to see me hung, and some to buy my fiddle But before that I do part with her, I'll break her through the middle Sae rantinly, sae wantonly, and sae dauntonly gaed he He played a tune and he danced around below the gallows tree He took his fiddle in both of his hands, and he broke it o'er a stone Saying: "There's no other hand shall play on thee when I am dead and gone" Sae rantinly, sae wantonly, and sae dauntonly gaed he He played a tune and he danced around below the gallows tree The reprieve was coming o'er the Brig of Banff, to set McPherson free But they put the clock a quarter before, and they hanged him from a tree Sae rantinly, sae wantonly, and sae dauntonly gaed he He played a tune and he danced around below the gallows tree | M'PHERSON'S FAREWELL Farewell, ye dungeons dark and strong, The wretch's destinie! M'Pherson's time will not be long On yonder gallows-tree. Sae rantingly, sae wantonly, Sae dauntingly gaed he; He play'd a spring, and danc'd it round, Below the gallows-tree. O, what is death but parting breath? On many a bloody plain I've dared his face, and in this place I scorn him yet again! Sae rantingly, sae wantonly, Sae dauntingly gaed he; He play'd a spring, and danc'd it round, Below the gallows-tree. Untie these bands from off my hands, And bring me to my sword; And there's no a man in all Scotland But I'll brave him at a word. Sae rantingly, sae wantonly, Sae dauntingly gaed he; He play'd a spring, and danc'd it round, Below the gallows-tree. I've liv'd a life of sturt and strife; I die by treacherie: It burns my heart I must depart, And not avenged be. Sae rantingly, sae wantonly, Sae dauntingly gaed he; He play'd a spring, and danc'd it round, Below the gallows-tree. Now farewell light, thou sunshine bright, And all beneath the sky! May coward shame distain his name, The wretch that dares not die! |