16 September 2008

I'm Safe In My Bed

I still would be your shelter

4 kommentarer:

Igor said...

Stretched On Your Grave

I am stretched on your grave
And I'll lie there forever
If your hands were in mine
I'd be sure they could not sever
My apple tree, my brightness
It's time we were together
For I smell of the earth
And am worn by the weather

When my family thinks
That I'm safely in my bed
From morn until night
I am stretched out at your head
Calling out to the earth
With tears hot and wild
For the loss of the girl
That I loved as a child

The night that we were lost
In the shade of the blackthorn
And the chill of frost
And thanks be to Jesus
We did all that was right
And your maiden head still
Is your pillar of light

The priests and the friars
They approach me in dread
Because I still love you
My love and you're dead
I still would be your shelter
Through rain and through storm
And with you in your cold grave
I cannot sleep warm

So I am stretched on your grave
And will lie there forever
If your hands were in mine
I'd be sure they could not sever
My apple tree, my brightness
It's time we were together
For I smell of the earth
And am worn by the weather


Anonymous
17th century Irish poem

Anonymous said...

e ba holesterol, kupi sebi skejt tamo i pridruzi se bandi - vidjeces kako se ciste vene:)))

Anonymous said...

He he :)))

Lako je tebi, ti znas skejtat. Ja moram, jadan, trchat' :)))

Anonymous said...

Aha znam, zato skejtam jedan dan pa onda shepam tri sedmice:)))