1. |
Winter Psalm
05:40
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Winter Psalm (for my mother)
I woke on a winter morning
Before the blackbird said its psalm
Crept in to see the children sleeping
Their eyelids soft and bodies safe from harm
Who’s dream had I been dreaming?
About a boy on a red, red bike
He was so fast, I could not reach him
And I was blinded by the bright, bright light
I comb my long brown hair and leaving
The kettle making it’s complaint
Step out to see the day, a wafer
Melt upon the tongue of night
The glass fogged, this house is breathing
A sound that only love can make
Three walls can’t keep a roof from caving
But three’s a tipi, three’s a layer cake
And in their pictures, there are hearts
And there are houses
With windows made of honeycomb
A spider swinging in its cradle
With silver bells all in a row
With silver bells and cockle shells
And pretty maids
And all the dreams we’ll someday sow
With muddy knees and frozen leaves
And spells that cast their purple shadows
in the snow
My lovers come and go like the weather
I keep their letters a in a box
I am their solace, I’m their saviour
I am the siren and the jagged rocks
But who’s to say if in the end I was forsaken?
Forgotten, misbegotten for a crown
Night falls like an absolution
Upon this unforgiving town
But in the night I had been dreaming
About a boy on a red, red bike
He was so fast, I could not reach him
And we were blinded by brightest light
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2. |
In the Bleak Midwinter
03:47
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In the bleak midwinter, frosty wind made moan,
Earth stood hard as iron, water like a stone;
Snow had fallen, snow on snow, snow on snow,
In the bleak midwinter, long ago.
What can I give Him, poor as I am?
If I were a shepherd, I would bring a lamb;
If I were a Wise Man, I would do my part;
Yet what I can I give Him: give my heart.
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3. |
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One night as I lay on my bed,
I dreamed about a pretty maid
I was so distressed,
I could take no rest
Love did torment me so
So I to my true love’s did go
And when I came to my love’s window
And boldly called her by her name
Saying, “It’s for your sake
I'm come here so late
Through this bitter frost and snow
So open the window, my love, do
She said, “My mam and dad are still awake
And they are sure for to hear us speak
There'll be no excuse
Only sore abuse
Many bitter words and blows
So go from my window, my love, go!”
I said, “Your mam and dad are still asleep
And they are sure not to hear us speak
They’ll be sleeping sound
On their bed of down
And they draw their breath so low
So open the window, my love, do!”
My lover rose and she opened the door
Just like an angel standing before
With her eyes so bright
Like the stars at night,
No diamond ring shone so
So in with my lover I did go
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4. |
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Als I lay on Yoolis Night, alone in my longynge
I thought I saw a faire sight, a maid hir child rockynge
The maiden wolde withouten song, hir childe aslepe to brynge
The Childe, he thought she did him wrong, and bade his moder synge
"Synge, now, Moder," sayed the Childe, “of what shalle me befalle?
Hereafter, when i cum to eld, for so don modres alle."
"Swete moder, faire and fre, because it is so
I pray thee that thou lullen me, for so don modres alle."
"Swete sonne," sayed she, "Whereof shoulde I synge?
Wist I never yet more of thee, but Gabriele's gretynge
He grete me godely on his knee, and sayed, "Oh, hail Mary!
Hail, full of grace, God is with thee, and beren thou shalt Messye."
Refrain: Lullaye, lullaye, lullaye, lullaye, my dere moder, synge lullaye.
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5. |
An teicheadh Go hÉigipt
04:01
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Tráth 'chuala Herod bhí laige's gruaim air
Gur rugadh an Rí a bhéarfadh bua air
in onóir, in uaisleacht, i gcumhacht, 's i méadacht,
Do líon lán-channcar fuatha 's éad é
'S nach trua sin!
Ba ghearr go dtáinig an t-aingeal 'na dhéidh sin,
Agus labhair go modhail leis Fhaoilinn déadghil;
'O, caithfidh sibh teitheadh le chéile go hÉigipt,
Nó is gairid go gciuinidh sibh feall is éigeart,
'S nach trua sin!
D'imigh an Triúr ar shiúl na hoiche,
An Naomh, an Mhaighdean agus Rí na Ríthe,
Gan charaid, gan stór, gan ór, gan eadáil
Ach Rí na bhFIaÍthsas, an leanbhán gléigeal,
'S nach trua sin!
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6. |
Love Deeper
03:06
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The years grow expensive the faster they pass,
The moments are whispering all flesh is grass,
Your heart may be gold but your neck is of brass,
Love whom you love, love deeper.
The days stand in queues, the buses are full,
You can’t push your luck says the load you must pull,
There’s nothing to fortune but gathering wool,
Love whom you love, love deeper
Look back at the time grown shrunken and small,
How rich is the garden, how high is the wall?
And where’s now your Paradise after the Fall?
Love whom you love, love deeper.
Love fiercer, love faster, love longer, love well,
Don’t wait for the bellman, don’t wait for the bell,
The years are expensive, they’re yours for a spell,
Love whom you love, love deeper.
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Ana Silvera London, UK
'Stunning...magical storytelling' -The Guardian
Ana Silvera is a London-born singer-
songwriter and composer whose folk and bluegrass-tinged tunes are lyrical, intimate and emotive, works of ‘lavish, vivid imagination’ (Metro).
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