时间：2011-04-18
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Pastures Of Plenty - Woody Guthrie (伍迪·格思里)
Written by：Guthrie
It's a mighty hard row that my poor hands have hoed
My poor feet have traveled a hot dusty road
Out of your dust bowl and westward we rolled
And your deserts were hot and your mountains were cold
I worked in your orchards of peaches and prunes
I slept on the ground in the light of the moon
On the edge of your city you'll see me and then
I come with the dust and I go with the wind
California Arizona I harvest all your crops
And it's north up to oregon to gather your hops
Dig the beets from your ground cut the grapes from your vine
To set on your table your light sparkling wine
Green pastures of plenty from dry desert ground
From the grand coulee dam where the waters run down
Every state in the union us migrants have been
The we'll work in this fight and we'll fight till we win
It's always we rambled
That river and I
All along your green valley I will work till I die
My land I'll defend with my life if it be
'Cause my pastures of plenty must always be free
