Thomas Beavitt - Lermontov: Ossian's Tomb, Yearning, Sounds | Текст песни

• Тексты песен
• Thomas Beavitt
• Lermontov: Ossian's Tomb, Yearning, Sounds

If I were a raven or a raptor of the plain,
Whirling far above my earthly brain;
If I could only my desires betake to wing
And all at once my heart were free to sing.

To the west, to the west, I’d be gone in an hour!
Where the fields of my sires are in flow’r,
Where in a bare keep ‘neath the swirling of mists,
Their oblivious bones are lying at rest.
Where on ancient walls ancestral shields hang
Above a broad sword rusty and lang.

I would fly over the sword and shield,
Brushing the dust of ages as I wheeled;
Grazing the mute Scottish harp strings
As, once again, through the chamber it rings
And is heard by the one who awakes –
And as it reverberates… so the spell breaks.

But… disconsolate dreams, unfulfillable yearning
Against the strict edicts of fate not returning;
Between me and the hills of my native land
Billowing furrows lie twixt either strand.

The last scion of a race that routed foes
Desiccating here amongst th’ alien snows;
Ach, I was born here, but I would be fain…
O! Why am I not a raptor of the plain?