Une jolie chanson traditionnelle écossaise, entrainante et pleine de fraicheur: "The Lads Among Heather" (Les garçons dans la bruyère); ça parle de garçons de la campagne qui invitent des jeunes filles (lassies) à aller au bal du village avec eux ("a dance in the barn (grange NDLT) is worth ten in the hall") et à laisser tomber leurs soirées élégantes, leurs toilettes chichiteuses et les manières de la ville:
http://www.youtube.com/v/8vc5uxWB ... re=relatedComme on est en Ecosse, la référence guerrière n'est jamais loin: pour se faire valoir, les garçons affirment que "When the queen wants some soldiers, she kens whaur to send/To the mountains and valleys, the hills and the glens/ Wi' their bonnets and plaids, they're aye true tae the end/ Are the lads that were reared among heather"
(Quand la reine veut des soldats/Elle sait où aller les chercher/Dans les montagnes, les vallées, les collines et les glens (vallons) /Avec leurs bonnets et leurs plaids, ils sont fidèles pour toujours/Les garçons qui ont grandi dans la bruyère"
Voici les paroles:
Lads Among Heather Come all ye young lassies whar hae ye been
Sae sleepy and drowsy, I ken by your een
In all the wide world, you'll ne'er find a frien'
Like the lads that were reared among heather
Awa' wi' yer satins, yer silks and yer shawls
Yer soirees and yer parties and yer elegant balls
For a dance in the barn's worth ten in the hall
Wi' the lads that were reared among heather
Tak' a walk roon yer cities, braw buildings ootside
Gaze on the splendors and the wonder with pride
Fine ships have been built, on the banks o' the Clyde
By the lads that were reared among heather
Awa' wi' yer satins, yer silks and yer shawls
Yer soirees and yer parties and yer elegant balls
For a dance in the barn's worth ten in the hall
Wi' the lads that were reared among heather
When the queen wants some soldiers, she kens whaur to send
To the mountains and valleys, the hills and the glens
Wi' their bonnets and plaids, they're aye true tae the end
Are the lads that were reared among heather
Awa' wi' yer satins, yer silks and yer shawls
Yer soirees and yer parties and yer elegant balls
For a dance in the barn's worth ten in the hall
Wi' the lads that were reared among heather
Now England can boast for the sweet-scented rose
And Ireland can boast for the shamrock she grows
But gi' me the land, where the clear water flows
And the mountains are covered with heather
Awa' wi' yer satins, yer silks and yer shawls
Yer soirees and yer parties and yer elegant balls
For a dance in the barn's worth ten in the hall
Wi' the lads that were reared among heather
Awa' wi' yer satins, yer silks and yer shawls
Yer soirees and yer parties and yer elegant balls
For a dance in the barn's worth ten in the hall
Wi' the lads that were reared among heather