Текст песни Banks of the Condamine (A. L. Lloyd) с переводом

Hark, hark, the dogs are barking, I can no longer stay

The boys have all gone shearing, I heard the publican say

And I must be off in the morning, love, before the sun do shine

To meet the Roma shearers on the banks of the Condamine

Oh Willie, dearest Willie, don’t leave me here to mourn

Don’t make me curse and rue the day that ever I was born

For parting with you, Willie, is like parting with my life

So stay and be a selector, love and I will be your wife

Oh Nancy, dearest Nancy, you know that I must go

The squatters are expecting me their shearing for to do

And when I’m on the board, my love, I’ll think of you with pride

And my shears they will go freely when I’m on the whipping side

Oh I’ll cut off my yellow hair and go along with you

I’ll dress myself in men’s attire and be a shearer too

I’ll cook and count your tally, love, whilst ringer-o you shine

And I’ll wash your greasy moleskins on the banks of the Condamine

Oh Nancy, dearest Nancy, you know you cannot go

The boss has given his orders no woman may do so

And your delicate constitution isn’t equal unto mine

To eat that ram-stag mutton on the banks of the Condamine

But when the shearing’s over I’ll make of you my wife

I’ll get a boundary riding job and settle down for life

And when the days' work’s done, my love, and the evening it is fine

I’ll tell of them sandy cobblers on the banks of the Condamine

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