Capercaillie an eala bhan

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Capercaillie
Cascade
The Swan
I am sorry for how I am
My heart is in my breast
Since the time I left
The high mountains of the mist
The valleys of the mandarin
In the lakes, the bays and the streams
In the swan there is silence
Every day that is I give
Maggie, don't be shy. all but on a tour
As the sun strikes
The songs of the years bring down
And the sun does not raise their attention.
The earth is all around me
The clouds up in the clouds;
At the shells hitting -
I can't see from me with fog:
No hearing at my ears
With the sound of the big gun;
But although this time is hard on me
My thoughts are on MacLeod.
On my elbow in the plates
My mind is on you, my love;
In my sleep I dream of you
I am not naturally healthy;
My mind is filled
With so much longing
And my hair has become so red
Now I'm supposed to be a woman
Good night to you, to sleep
In your flower-scented bed;
Sleep peacefully on your pillow
Your happy and healthy awakening
I am here in the cold plate
In my ears the sound of death
Not wanting to get rid of it by victory -
The ocean is as permanent as swimming.
The White Swan
Sad I consider my condition
With my heart engaged with sorrow
From the very time that I left
The high bens of the mist
The little glens of dallaince
Of the lochans, the bays and the forelands
And the white swan dwelling there
Whom I daily pursue.
Maggie, don't be sad
Love, if I should die -
Who among men
Endures eternally?
We are all alone on a journey
Like flowers in the deserted cattle fold
That the year's wind and rain will bring down
And that the sun cannot raise.
All the ground around me
Is like hail in the heavens;
With the shells exploding -
I am blinded by smoke:
My ears are deafened
By the roar of the cannon;
But despite the savagery of the moment
My thoughts are on the girl called MacLeod.
Crouched in the trenches
My mind is fixed on you, love;
In sleep I dream of you
I am not fated to survive;
My spirit is filled
With a surfeit of longing
And my hair once so auburn
Is now almost white.
Goodnight to you, love
In your warm, sweet-smelling bed;
May you have peaceful sleep and afterwards
May you waken healthy and in good spirits
I am here in the cold trench
With the clamor of death in my ears
With no hope of returning victorious-
The ocean is too wide to swim.

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