Loreena McKennitt - The Stolen Child [ Lyrics Video ]
Vložit
- čas přidán 16. 06. 2017
- I own nothing.
William Butler Yeats, Ireland’s most famous and beloved poet of the 20th century, was intrigued by the Celtic myths and legends of his homeland, a fascination instilled at an early age by his mother, Susan Mary Pollexfen Yeats. His early poem, “The Stolen Child”, first appeared in the Irish Monthly in December 1886, and was published in 1892 in his first book of poetry, The Wanderings of Oisin and Other Poems, as well as Fairy and Folk Tales of the Irish Peasantry.
The poem tells of a mortal child who is lured away to the land of the fairies, far from the troubles and sadness of the human world. It is a romantic metaphor for the universal loss of innocence we all go through as we wrestle with the random, unjust and tragic nature of life, and perhaps a personal expression of Yeats own reckoning with sorrow in his life. Just twenty one years old at the time he wrote the poem, Yeats surely thought of his younger siblings, Robert and Jane, who both died at a young age-Robert at age three and Jane at just a year old.
The places mentioned in the poem are located in Sligo and Leitrim, in the storied west of Ireland, where Yeats spent much of his youth. A wild and beautiful land, steeped in the mystery, superstition and magic of Irish mythology, western Ireland in the late 19th century must have seemed to Yeats very much the land of the aos sí, (ees shee), the people of the mounds. Common to both Irish and Scottish mythology, the ancient race of the aos sí are also known as the daoine sídhe (dee-nuh shee-uh[th]) and, later in Irish literature, as the Tuatha Dé Danann (two-uh-huh day dan-in).
-----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------
Lyrics:
The Stolen Child
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 berries
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.
All too easy to imagine this being played at a child's funeral, where mourners do indeed find themselves in deeper despair than any of them can understand. Please God, may our stolen child be somewhere dancing with the faeries!
I'm sure your child is singing and flying with them..as they watch over you ...bless you ..
You have a beautiful soul.
Enchanting. I am truly grateful for the gifts of Mr. Yeats and his like. They help to transcend the physical
Hauntingly beautiful ..
thanks for the history of the poem in the discription. The song is beautiful and so are the words
Heartaching and brilliant!
Art, music, poetry, song, and prayer are greatest instruments to capture emotion and the need to convey it.
One of my favorite poems set to beautiful music
I thank God for You. Love&Light
For your eyes only, can see me through the night. For your eyes only, I never need to hide. You can see so much in me, so much in me that's new. I never felt until I looked at you. For your eyes only, only for you. You'll see what no one else can see, and now I'm breaking free. For your eyes only, only for you. The love I know you need in me, the fantasy you've freed in me. Only for you, only for you. For your eyes only, the nights are never cold. You really know me, that's all I need to know. Maybe I'm an open book because I know you're mine, But you won't need to read between the lines. For your eyes only, only for you. You see what no one else can see, and now I'm breaking free. For your eyes only, only for you. The passions that collide in me, the wild abandoned side of me. Only for you, for your eyes only.
Magnificent
EXTREMELY BEAUTIFUL! 😭
Very well done.
Which album is this from? I've found a couple of different versions but this one is by far the best sounding.
Maravillosa la lengua y la poesía inglesa
yo thanks for the help memorizing a poem for school
Nothing says "scottish fairytale song" like electric guitar
Yeats was Irish.
Yeats was indeed fascinated by "Celtic" myths and legends. Fact check. The Keltoi never set foot in Ireland. There is no evidence from the annals of Ireland to prove any direct link between Gaelic Ireland and the Keltoi which existed as a disparate grouping of tribes in Germany, Austria and Eastern France without a common language or culture. Gaelic Ireland didn't identify as "Celtic". Period.