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Nettle Wine
por
Ralph McTell
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In my country garden, underneath the mountain With the dead nettles growing all around the door Early every morning the sun goes up the mountain Setting in the sea in the evening once more Taking water from the brook, wondering who it was that took The stones from the mountain and built his cottage here Two up and two down, miles from the nearest town I wonder who he was, though the reason why is clear Take a bunch of nettles and add a little water Drawn from the stream running outside the door Leave it for a month or two, then bottle it and drink the brew And watch the suns go down in the sea once more Take in wood to build a fire, could you really get much higher Than standing in the doorway with a glass of nettle wine? My lady beside me, the mountain behind me Before me the sea and the red skyline
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