Tags: Frank O’Connor

Blair: Velvet darkness

I Am Stretched On Your Grave - Unknown

[A 17th-century Irish poem by an unknown author titled 'Táim sínte ar do thuama', translated to English by Irish writer Frank O’Connor, and then set to an already existing separate tune in 1979 by musician Philip King.]

I am stretched on your grave and will lie there forever,
If your hands were in mine, I'd be sure they'd not sever.
My apple tree, my brightness 'tis time we were together,
For I smell of the earth and am stain-ed by the weather.

When my family thinks that I'm safe in my bed,
From night until morning I am stretched at your head.
Calling out to the air with tears hot and wild,
My grief for the girl that I loved as a child.

Do you remember the night we were lost
In the shade of the blackthorn and the chill of the frost.
Thanks be to Jesus we did what was right
And your maidenhead still is your Pillar of Light.

The priests and the friars approach me in dread,
Because I still love you, my love, and you’re dead.
And still would be your shelter through rain and through storm
For with you in the cold grave I cannot sleep warm.

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