Immédiatement, jeune adolescent, j'ai compris la puissance onirique d'Anne Clarck alors que mon anglais scolaire ne me permettais pas d'accéder à son univers poétique. J'ai alors plongé la tête en avant dans ses textes, pour découvrir ces lointaines contrées mystérieuses et je n'en suis jamais revenu.
I've read and heard Yeats' poem performed before, but never like this, never so hauntingly or so wistfully beautiful. I felt as if I were the human child being led away by a faery, hand in hand.
The Stolen Child W. B. Yeats - 1865-1939 Where dips the rocky highland Of Sleuth Wood in the lake, There lies a leafy island Where flapping herons wake The drowsy water rats; There we've hid our faery vats, Full of berrys And of reddest stolen cherries. Come away, O human child! To the waters and the wild With a faery, hand in hand, For the world's more full of weeping than you can understand. Where the wave of moonlight glosses The dim gray sands with light, Far off by furthest Rosses We foot it all the night, Weaving olden dances Mingling hands and mingling glances Till the moon has taken flight; To and fro we leap And chase the frothy bubbles, While the world is full of troubles And anxious in its sleep. Come away, O human child! To the waters and the wild With a faery, hand in hand, For the world's more full of weeping than you can understand. Where the wandering water gushes From the hills above Glen-Car, In pools among the rushes That scarce could bathe a star, We seek for slumbering trout And whispering in their ears Give them unquiet dreams; Leaning softly out From ferns that drop their tears Over the young streams. Come away, O human child! To the waters and the wild With a faery, hand in hand, For the world's more full of weeping than you can understand. Away with us he's going, The solemn-eyed: He'll hear no more the lowing Of the calves on the warm hillside Or the kettle on the hob Sing peace into his breast, Or see the brown mice bob Round and round the oatmeal chest. For he comes, the human child, To the waters and the wild With a faery, hand in hand, For the world's more full of weeping than he can understand.
Anne is a true pioneer of the spoken word, this one gives me goosebumps.
Anne Clarks Stimme ist unvergleichlich und verführt in eine andere zauberhafte Welt und ist unendlich vereinbar mit der Musik. I love it :-)
Öffne dein Bewusstsein für die Melodie und ihrem Klang und schließe dabei die Augen um es einfach nur zu genießen... 🎧🎵🎶🎵
Eine Stimme, die man aus tausenden sofort erkennt.....love it. Durch alle Genres......
Absolut phantastisch, jetzt das Ganze noch auf Vinyl wäre mega❤
Absolut Großartig. Das waren für mich knapp 10 Minuten Urlaub. Danke, Danke, Danke!
Time is like suspended.... Magnifique, thank you
Immédiatement, jeune adolescent, j'ai compris la puissance onirique d'Anne Clarck alors que mon anglais scolaire ne me permettais pas d'accéder à son univers poétique. J'ai alors plongé la tête en avant dans ses textes, pour découvrir ces lointaines contrées mystérieuses et je n'en suis jamais revenu.
Haunting and so beautiful 🖤
Das ganze Album lohnt sich. Sehr schoene Texte und ein Super-Klang.
Divinal
anne clark es la mejor
I've read and heard Yeats' poem performed before, but never like this, never so hauntingly or so wistfully beautiful. I felt as if I were the human child being led away by a faery, hand in hand.
Wundervoll!
Splendid.
Meravigliosi
magnificent
The Stolen Child
W. B. Yeats - 1865-1939
Where dips the rocky highland
Of Sleuth Wood in the lake,
There lies a leafy island
Where flapping herons wake
The drowsy water rats;
There we've hid our faery vats,
Full of berrys
And of reddest stolen cherries.
Come away, O human child!
To the waters and the wild
With a faery, hand in hand,
For the world's more full of weeping than you can understand.
Where the wave of moonlight glosses
The dim gray sands with light,
Far off by furthest Rosses
We foot it all the night,
Weaving olden dances
Mingling hands and mingling glances
Till the moon has taken flight;
To and fro we leap
And chase the frothy bubbles,
While the world is full of troubles
And anxious in its sleep.
Come away, O human child!
To the waters and the wild
With a faery, hand in hand,
For the world's more full of weeping than you can understand.
Where the wandering water gushes
From the hills above Glen-Car,
In pools among the rushes
That scarce could bathe a star,
We seek for slumbering trout
And whispering in their ears
Give them unquiet dreams;
Leaning softly out
From ferns that drop their tears
Over the young streams.
Come away, O human child!
To the waters and the wild
With a faery, hand in hand,
For the world's more full of weeping than you can understand.
Away with us he's going,
The solemn-eyed:
He'll hear no more the lowing
Of the calves on the warm hillside
Or the kettle on the hob
Sing peace into his breast,
Or see the brown mice bob
Round and round the oatmeal chest.
For he comes, the human child,
To the waters and the wild
With a faery, hand in hand,
For the world's more full of weeping than he can understand.
Grandios! ❤❤❤
Beautiful and fragile ❤
Awesome ❤️
Thank you.. i love it.
👌❤️👌❤️👌❤️👌
🥰🥰🥰🥰🎶🎵🎶🎶🎶🎵👍
Beautiful! Thank you. ❤️
👍👍👍👍👍👍👍👍👏👏👏👏👏👏
👏
Prachtig!
Wunderschön. Mich würde interessieren welches Röhrenmikro das ist? Ein U47 scheint es nicht zu sein...Der Klang ist traumhaft!
Das ist ein Vox-o-rama U49 von Andreas Grosser
Danke, klingt hervorragend. @@StockfischRecords
Is this recorded ?
You can find another recording of this piece on Anne Clark's latest album "Borderland"
Wunderbar klar und tief - berührt mich sehr 🗝💖💎
p͎r͎o͎m͎o͎s͎m͎ 🤣