Wastelands

"Yet such is oft the course of deeds that move the wheels of the world: small hands do them because they must, while the eyes of the great are elsewhere."

As I was walking all alane,

I heard twa corbies making a mane;

The tane unto the t’other say,

‘Where sall we gang and dine to-day?’

‘In behint yon auld fail dyke,

I wot there lies a new-slain knight;

And naebody kens that he lies there,

But his hawk, his hound, and his lady fair.

‘His hound is to the hunting gane,

His hawk, to fetch the wild-fowl hame,

His lady’s ta’en another mate,

So we may mak our dinner sweet.

‘Ye’ll sit on his white hause-bane,

And I’ll pike out his bonny blue een.

Wi’ ae lock o’ his gowden hair,

We’ll theek our nest when it grows bare.

‘Mony a ane for him makes mane,

But nane sall ken whare he is gane:

O’er his white banes, when they are bare,

The wind sall blaw for evermair.’

Manchmal fliehen sie im letzten Augenblick. Das kommt nicht in die Presse.

Man drückt ihnen ein Gewehr in die Hand und schickt sie an die Front, wo sie sterben.

Doch manchmal fliehen sie.

Wer kann sie denn schuldig dafür sprechen?

Sie besitzen Namen.

Wie du. Wie ich.

Oh braw, braw lads o' Gala Water

Bonnie lads o' Gala Water

Let them a' say whate'er they may

The gree gaes aye tae Gala Water

Braw, braw bonnie lads O

It's ower yon moss an' ower yon moor

Ower yon bonnie hill o' heather

Let them a' say whate'er they may

The gree gaes aye tae Gala Water

Braw, braw bonnie lads O

It's lords an' lairds cam here tae woo

An' gentlemen wi' sword, aye an' dagger

But the black-eyed lads o' Galashiels

Will hae nane but the gree o' Gala Water

Braw, braw bonnie lads O

Fareweel tae you, proud Galashiels

Fareweel, my mither an' my faither

I'll awa' wi' the black-haired lad

That keeps his sheep on Gala Water

Braw, braw bonnie lads O

Ower yon moss an' ower yon moor

Ower yon bonnie hills sae drearie

The lassie lost her silken snood

Gar'd her greet, for she was wearie

Braw, braw bonnie lads O