FREEDOM COME-ALL-YE (by Hamish Henderson; translation by Nigel Gatherer) Rough the wind in the clear day's dawning, Blows the clouds upside down over the bay; But there's more than a rough wind blowing Through the great glen of the world today. It's a thought that will make our rats - All these rogues that go bold, fresh and gay - Take the road and seek other pastures For their ill ploys to sport and play No more will the bonnie youngsters March to war when our braggarts arrogantly crow; Nor small children from pit-head and village Mourn the ships sailing doon the Broomielaw. [1] Broken Families in lands we've plundered Will curse Scotland the Brave no more, no more; Black and white, one to the other joined Make the vile barracks of their masters bare. O come all ye at home with freedom, Never listen when the crows croak for doom; In your house everybody Can find bread, whisky and painted room. When Maclean meets with his friends in Springburn, [2] All the roses and wild cherries will turn to bloom; And a black boy from beyond Nyanga Pulls the cruel gallows of the burghers down. [1] The Broomielaw is a street which runs along the River Clyde in the centre of Glasgow. [2] An area in Glasgow