My blond lover;
And you knew our love,
Uncle without bowels,
Foul old man.
For a few weights of gold
You sold her to the blacks,
And they will drive a stinking trade
At the dark market;
Your slender daughter,
The free child of our hills.
My blond lover;
And you knew our love,
Uncle without bowels,
Foul old man.
For a few weights of gold
You sold her to the blacks,
And they will drive a stinking trade
At the dark market;
Your slender daughter,
The free child of our hills.