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Wandering Angus

	作曲 : Holland, Miller, Yates
	( Words by W.B. Yeats, Music by Brian Miller )
	I went out to the hazelwood
	Because a fire was in my head
	I Cut and peeled a hazel wand
	And hooked a berry to a thread
	And when white moths were on the wing
	And moth-like stars were flickering out
	I dropped a berry in a stream
	And caught a little silver trout
	When I had laid it on the floor
	And went to blow the fire aflame
	And something rustled on the floor
	And something called me by my name
	It had become a glimmering girl
	With apple blossoms in her hair
	Who called me by my name and ran
	And vanished in the brightening air
	Though I am old with wandering
	Through hollow lands and hilly lands
	I will find out where she has gone
	And kiss her lips and take her hand
	And walk through long green dappled grass
	And pluck till time and times are done
	The silver apples of the moon
	And the golden apples of the sun

	zuò qǔ : Holland, Miller, Yates
	Words by W. B. Yeats, Music by Brian Miller
	I went out to the hazelwood
	Because a fire was in my head
	I Cut and peeled a hazel wand
	And hooked a berry to a thread
	And when white moths were on the wing
	And mothlike stars were flickering out
	I dropped a berry in a stream
	And caught a little silver trout
	When I had laid it on the floor
	And went to blow the fire aflame
	And something rustled on the floor
	And something called me by my name
	It had become a glimmering girl
	With apple blossoms in her hair
	Who called me by my name and ran
	And vanished in the brightening air
	Though I am old with wandering
	Through hollow lands and hilly lands
	I will find out where she has gone
	And kiss her lips and take her hand
	And walk through long green dappled grass
	And pluck till time and times are done
	The silver apples of the moon
	And the golden apples of the sun