Текст песни Westlin' Winds (The Tannahill Weavers) с переводом

Now westlin' winds and slaught’ring guns

Bring autumn’s pleasant weather

The gorcock springs on whirring wings

Amang the blooming heather

Now waving grain, wide o’er the plain

Delights the weary farmer

The moon shines bright, as I rove by night

To muse upon my charmer

The paitrick lo’es the fruitfu' fells

The plover lo’es the mountains

The woodcock haunts the lonely dells

The soaring hern the fountains

Through lofty groves the cushat roves

The path o' man to shun it

The hazel bush o’erhangs the thrush

The spreading thorn the linnet

Thus every kind their pleasure find

The savage and the tender

Some social join, and leagues combine

Some solitary wander

Avaunt, away, the cruel sway

Tyrannic man’s dominion!

The sportsman’s joy, the murdering cry

The fluttering gory pinion!

But, Peggy dear, the evening’s clear

Thick flies the skimming swallow

The sky is blue, the fields in view

All fading green and yellow

Come let us stray our gladsome way

And view the joys of nature

The rustling corn, the fruited thorn

And ilka happy creature

We’ll gently walk, and sweetly talk

While the silent moon shines clearly

I’ll clasp thy waist, and, fondly prest

Swear how I love thee dearly

Not vernal show’rs to budding flow’rs

Not autumn to the farmer

So dear can be as thou to me

My fair my lovely charmer

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