Sting
Miscellaneous
My Gile Mear
For a time I was a peaceful virgin,
And now I'm a worn-out widow,
My husband plowing the waves to a train
Due to the hills and in the mountains
'It's my hero, my Swift,
'It's my Caesar, Swift,
Sleep I didn't deny or find myself
I went in Where is my Gile Mear?
I was always affected every day,
Crying hard and shedding tears
As the boy was released from me
And there is no report from him, my sorrow.
The cuckoo does not speak cheerfully at night
There is no voice of a dog in the nut woods,
It is not a summer morning in the foggy clearings
The living boy has gone from me.
A noble and proud young horseman,
Stem without gloom and cheerful,
Glad and lively, early in speech
Cutting the crowd and leading the way.
History is played on musical harps
's lanterns lit a card on board
With a high spirit without crookedness, without smoke
To have a healthier world il me lion.
Gile fast in the spell of mourning,
Eire's all under black bells;
Sleep not denied or found myself Where is my Gile Rapid.

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