Scarborough Fair
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- O My Field, My Field ≅ Полюшко-поле
- Scarborough Fair ≅ Ярмарка в Скарборо
Are you going to Scarborough fair?
Parsley, sage, rosemary and thyme
Remember me to one who lives there
He once was a true love of mine
Tell him to make me a cambric shirt
Parsley, sage, rosemary and thyme
Without no seam nor needlework
Then he'll be a true love of mine
Tell him to find me an acre of land
Parsley, sage, rosemary and thyme
Between the salt water and the sea strand
Then he'll be a true love of mine
Are you going to Scarborough fair?
Parsley, sage, rosemary and thyme
Remember me to one who lives there
He once was a true love of mine
SIMON & GARFUNKEL LYRICS
Are you going to Scarborough Fair:
Parsley, sage, rosemary and thyme.
Remember me to one who lives there.
She once was a true love of mine.
On the side of a hill in the deep forest green.
Tracing of sparrow on snow-crested brown.
Blankets and bedclothes the child of the mountain
Sleeps unaware of the clarion call.
Tell her to make me a cambric shirt:
Parsley, sage, rosemary and thyme;
Without no seams nor needle work,
Then she'll be a true love of mine.
On the side of a hill a sprinkling of leaves.
Washes the grave with silvery tears.
A soldier cleans and polishes a gun.
Sleeps unaware of the clarion call.
Tell her to find me an acre of land:
Parsley, sage, rosemary and thyme;
Between the salt water and the sea strand,
Then she'll be a true love of mine.
War bellows blazing in scarlet battalions.
General order their soldiers to kill.
And to fight for a cause they've long ago forgotten.
Tell her to reap it with a sickle of leather:
Parsley, sage, rosemary and thyme;
And gather it all in a bunch of heather,
Then she'll be a true love of mine.
Вы едете в Скабро на ярмарку?
Розмарин, петрушка, шалфей,
Поклон от меня тому парню,
Что был любовью моей
Скажите, чтоб сшил блузку мне из батиста
Розмарин, петрушка, шалфей,
Чтобы была без швов и без ниток,
Чтобы опять он был мой
Скажите, чтобы он нашёл мне земли
Розмарин, петрушка, шалфей,
Меж берегом и водой солёной
Чтобы опять он был мой
Вы едете в Скабро на ярмарку?
Розмарин, петрушка, шалфей,
Поклон от меня тому парню,
Что был любовью моей