Traditional - Scarborough fair - текст песни (слова), перевод

Are you going to Scarborough Fair? 
 Parsley, sage, rosemary and thyme,
 Remember me to one who lives there,
 She once was a true love of mine. 
 Tell her to make me a cambric shirt,
 (On the side of a hill in the deep forest green,)
  Parsley, sage, rosemary and thyme,
 (Tracing of sparrow on snow-crested brown,)
  Without no seam nor needle work,
 (Blankets and bedclothes the child of the mountain,)
 Then she'll be a true love of mine.
 Sleeps unaware of the clarion call.
 Tell her to find me an acre of land,
 (On the side of a hill a sprinkling of leaves,
 Parsley, sage, rosemary and thyme,
 (Washes the grave with silvery tears,)
 Between the salt water and the sea strand,
 (A soldier cleans and polishes a gun.)
 Then she'll be a true love of mine. 
 Tell her to reap it with a sickle of leather,
 (War bellows lazing in scarlet batallions,)
 Parsley, sage, rosemary and thyme,
 (Generals orders their soldiers to kill,) 
 And to gather it all in a bunch of heather,
 (And to fight for a cause they've long ago forgotten.)
  Then she'll be a true love of mine. 
 Are you going to Scarborough fair? 
 Parsley, sage, rosemary and thyme, 
 Remember me to one who lives there, 
 She once was a true love of mine.