Over the hills and far away

They came for him one winter's night.
Arrested, he was bound.
They said there'd been a robbery,
his pistol had been found.

They marched him to the station house,
he waited for the dawn.
And as they led him to the dock,
he knew that he'd been wronged.

"You stand accused of robbery,"
he heard the bailiff say.
He knew without an alibi,
tomorrow's light would mourn his freedom.

Over the hills and far away,
for ten long years he'll count the days.
Over the mountains and the seas,
a prisoner's life for him there'll be.

He knew that it would cost him dear,
but yet he dare not say.
Where he had been that fateful night,
a secret it must stay.

He had to fight back tears of rage.
His heart beat like a drum.
For with the wife of his best friend,
he spent his final night of freedom.

Over the hills and far away,
he swears he will return one day.
Far from the mountains and the seas,
back in her arms again he'll be.

Each night within his prison cell,
he looks out through the bars.
He reads the letters that she wrote.
One day he'll know the taste of freedom.

Over the hills and far away,
she prays he will return one day.
As sure as the rivers reach the seas,
back in his arms again she'll be.

Over the hills and far away,
he swears he will return one day.
Far from the mountains and the seas,
back in her arms again he'll be.

Где-то за тридевять земель

Нет холоднее ночи той,
Когда за ним пришли,
Связали, увели с собой
И пистолет нашли...

Его в участок привели,
Где он рассвета ждал...
Но лишь во флигель заперли
Он понял - прогадал...

"Грабитель пойман! Вот и вор!" -
Ему кричали вслед...
Он знал - ужасен приговор
Рассвет убьёт его свободу...

Где-то за тридевять земель
Он будет дни считать в тюрьме...
Там, за семью морями зла
Он десять лет спалит дотла...

Свобода стоит дорого,
Но он не дал ответ
Где был той ночью роковой:
Ведь это бы секрет...

Пусть ярость душу мучает,
Бьёт в сердце барабан...
С женою друга лучшего
Он был в последний миг свободы...

Где-то за тридевять земель
Клянётся он вернуть тот день...
Вновь через сотни ночей и дней
Вернётся он в объятья к ней...

В своей убогой камере
Он смотрит сквозь окно,
Читает письма старые
И ждёт блаженных дней свободы...

Где-то за тридевять земель
Она молит вернуть тот день...
Так же, как в море течёт река
Утонет вновь в его руках...