Boots of Spanish Leather — текст песни (Bob Dylan)

Oh, Im sailin away my own true love,

Im sailin away in the morning.

Is there something I can send you from across the sea,

From the place that Ill be landing?



No, theres nothin you can send me, my own true love,

Theres nothin I wish to be ownin.

Just carry yourself back to me unspoiled,

From across that lonesome ocean.



Oh, but I just thought you might want something fine

Made of silver or of golden,

Either from the mountains of madrid

Or from the coast of barcelona.



Oh, but if I had the stars from the darkest night

And the diamonds from the deepest ocean,

Id forsake them all for your sweet kiss,

For thats all Im wishin to be ownin.



That I might be gone a long time

And its only that Im askin,

Is there something I can send you to remember me by,

To make your time more easy passin.



Oh, how can, how can you ask me again,

It only brings me sorrow.

The same thing I want from you today,

I would want again tomorrow.



I got a letter on a lonesome day,

It was from her ship a-sailin,

Saying I dont know when Ill be comin back again,

It depends on how Im a-feelin.



Well, if you, my love, must think that-a-way,

Im sure your mind is roamin.

Im sure your heart is not with me,

But with the country to where youre goin.



So take heed, take heed of the western wind,

Take heed of the stormy weather.

And yes, theres something you can send back to me,

Spanish boots of spanish leather.