Celtic (Irish) Traditional - Scarborough fair | Текст песни

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• Celtic (Irish) Traditional
• Scarborough fair

Are you going to Scarborough Fair?
Parsley, sage, rosemary and thyme,
Remember me to one who lives there,
she once was a true love of mine.

Tell her to make me a cambric shirt,
Parsley, sage, rosemary and thyme,
Without a seam or needle work,
Then she'll be a true love of mine.

Tell her to wash it in yonder dry well
Parsley, sage, rosemary and thyme,
Where water ne'er sprang, nor drop of rain fell
Then she'll be a true love of mine.

Tell her to dry it on yonder grey thorn
Parsley, sage, rosemary and thyme,
Which ne'er bore blossom since Adam was born
Then she'll be a true love of mine.

Tell her to find me an acre of land
Parsley, sage, rosemary and thyme,
Between the salt water and the sea strand
Then she'll be a true love of mine

Plough the land with the horn of a lamb
Parsley, sage, rosemary and thyme,
Then sow some seeds from the north of the dam
Then she'll be a true love of mine

Tell her to reap it with a sickle of leather
Parsley, sage, rosemary and thyme,
And tie up the sheaves with a rope made of heather
Then she'll be a true love of mine

If she tells me she can't I'll reply
Parsley, sage, rosemary and thyme,
Let me know that at least you will try;
Then she'll be a true love of mine

Love imposes impossible tasks,
Parsley, sage, rosemary and thyme,
Though never more than your own heart asks,
And I must know you're a true love of mine

Dear, when thou hast finished thy task,
Parsley, sage, rosemary and thyme,
Come to me, my hand for to ask,
For then thou art a true love of mine.

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