Where got ye siller moon,
Bonny laddie, highland laddie,
Glinting braw your belt aboon,
Bonny laddie, highland laddie?
Belted plaid and bonnet blue,
Bonny laddie, highland laddie,
Have ye been at Waterloo,
Bonny laddie, highland laddie?
Weels me on your tartan trews,
Bonny laddie, highland laddie,
Tell me, tell me a' the news,
Bonny laddie, highland laddie!
Saw ye Boney by the way,
Bonny laddie, highland laddie,
Blucher wi' his beard sae grey,
Bonny laddie, highland laddie?
Or, the doure and deadly Duke,
Bonny laddie, highland laddie,
Scatt'ring Frenchmen wi'his look,
Bonny laddie, highland laddie!
Some say he the day may rue;
Bonny laddie, highland laddie,
You can till gin this be true,
Bonny laddie, highland laddie.
Would ye tell me gin ye ken,
Bonny laddie, highland laddie,
Aught o' Donald and his men,
Bonny laddie, highland laddie?
Tell me o' my kilted Clan,
Bonny laddie, highland laddie,
Gin they fought, or gin they ran,
Bonny laddie, highland laddie?
About the headline (FAQ)
Authorship:
Musical settings (art songs, Lieder, mélodies, (etc.), choral pieces, and other vocal works set to this text), listed by composer (not necessarily exhaustive):
Available translations, adaptations or excerpts, and transliterations (if applicable):
- FRE French (Français) (Isabelle Cecchini) , "Petit gars des Highlands", copyright © 2003, (re)printed on this website with kind permission
- GER German (Deutsch) (Anonymous/Unidentified Artist) , "Frische Bursche, Hochlands Bursche"
- SPA Spanish (Español) (Susana Martin Dudoignon) , copyright © 2021, (re)printed on this website with kind permission
Researcher for this page: Ferdinando Albeggiani
This text was added to the website: 2004-08-17
Line count: 32
Word count: 159
D'où vient cette lune d'argent,
Petit gars, gars des Highlands,
Qui rend ton ceinturon brillant,
Petit gars?...
Bonnet bleu, plaid ajusté,
Petit gars...
De Waterloo es-tu rentré?
Petit gars...
Ton fier tartan, comme il est beau!
Petit gars...
Dis-moi, dis-moi quoi de nouveau?
Petit gars...
As-tu croisé le petit Tondu,
Petit gars...
Blücher et sa barbe chenue?
Petit gars...
Ce Duc austère, semant la mort,
Petit gars...
Les Français fuient à son abord.
Petit gars...
Ce jour, dit-on, maudit sera...
Petit gars...
Que penses-tu de tout cela?
Petit gars...
Raconte-moi, a-t-on parlé
Petit gars...
Du vieux Donald, de ses guerriers?
Petit gars...
Tous mes parents, tous mes alliés,
Petit gars...
Ont-ils vaincu, ont-ils plié?
Petit gars...