Перевод песни Traditional arranged by Derek Warfield – For Ireland I'd Not Tell Her Name

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Last eve as I wandered quiet near
To the border’s of my little farm
A beautiful maiden appeared
Whose loveliness caused my heart’s harm
By her daring and love smitten sour
And the words from her sweet lips that came
To meet her I raced the field o’er
But for Ireland I’d not tell her name
If this beauty but my words would heed
The words that I speak would be true
I’d help her in every need
And indeed all her work I would do
To win one fond kiss from my love
I’d read her romances of fame
Her champion I daily would prove
But for Ireland I’d not tell her name
There’s a beautiful stately young maid
At the nearing of my little farm
She’s welcoming kind unafraid
Her smile is both childlike and warm
Her gold hair in masses that grows
Like amber and sheen is that same
And the bloom in her cheeks like the rose
But for Ireland I’d not tell her name