Nothing’s so sad as the back of the ship
When seen from the shore
Nothing’s so lonely as the feeling you get
When you can’t see it anymore
And you know the man you love is on it
Nothing’s more silent than the heaving roar
Of the waves around the pier when you’re standing at the tip.
O my bonnie went over the ocean
My bonnie sailed away
Spirits of the sea, I’d give anything
For you to bring my bonnie back this way
My eyes sting and burn and my ears ring
With wind and tears and spray
And it makes me dizzy the way the waves surround me with motion
There are a few of us feeling the same:
Cold and lost and alone
The beach is dotted with wives
There are a few that are turning to stone
Most of us look more dead than alive
Some will die there listening to the wind moan
And waiting. Then the survivors will leave, heads bowed in sorrow and shame.
More English! Encore de l'anglais! Rejoice! Z'aviez qu'a ecouter en cours d'anglais!
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1 commentaire:
Le sujet irlandais le plus classique.
It's so awfully corny - and it's good. There's something quite enticing about this image of women standing on the shore - even though it's such a threadbare idea. Le problème avec les clichés, c'est qu'ils recèlent quelque chose de vrai, qu'il faut savoir exploiter.
http://youtube.com/watch?v=4ZP-4B7kHqA
publie plus souvent, c'est toujours un plaisir.
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