Ένας έρωτας με τραγική κατάληξη στην όμορφη μπαλάντα
του δημοφιλέστατου παραδοσιακού Αγγλο-Ιρλανδικού τραγουδιού 'Tragedy Gosport'.
THE BUTCHER BOY
In London city where I did dwell
A butcher boy, I loved right well
He courted me, my life away
But now with me, he will not stay
I wish, I wish, I wish in vain
I wish I was a maid again
A maid again I ne'er will be
'Till cherries grow on an apple tree
I wish my baby it was born
And smiling on its daddy's knee
And me poor girl to be dead and gone
With the long green grass growing over me
She went upstairs to go to bed
And calling to her mother said
"Give me a chair 'till I sit down
And a pen and ink 'till I write down"
At every word she dropped a tear
And at every line cried "Willie dear -
Oh, what a foolish girl was I
To be led astray by a butcher boy"
He went upstairs and the door he broke
He found her hanging from a rope
He took his knife and he cut her down
And in her pocket, these words he found
Oh, make my grave large, wide and deep
Put a marble stone at my head and feet
And in the middle, a turtle dove
That the world may know, that I died for love
She went upstairs to go to bed
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