| English |
|---|
| The curlew flies the skies alone |
| She goes wherever she’s inclined |
| Over stubbled field and heathered hill |
| In search of what there is to find |
| She plays her flute across the marsh |
| Her plaintive sound draws near then fade |
| A straight and even course she steers |
| Towards the creek to feed and wade |
| She whistles her notes across the dunes |
| The rising moon shines in her eye |
| In the greyness of the dusk she calls |
| The couch-grass whispers in reply |
| She pipes her tune across the moor |
| The wind blows soft in harmony |
| Into the gathering night she wings |
| She is alone and she is free. |
The Flight of the Curlew
Written by Graeme Miles
Arranged by The Unthanks
As recorded by The Unthanks on Simmerdim: Curlew Sounds