The Wind That Shakes The Barley

I sat within the barley green
I sat me with my true love.
My sad heart strove the two between
The old love and the new love.
The old for her the new
That made me think on Ireland dearly.
While soft the wind blew down the glade
And shook the golden barley.

'Twas hard the woeful words to frame
To break the ties that bound us.
But harder still to bear the shame
Of foreign chains around us.
And so I said the mountain glen
Ill meet at morning early.
And I'll join the bold united men
While soft winds shook the barley.

Twas sad I kissed away her tears
My fond arm round her flinging.
When a foe, man's shot burst on our ears
From out the wild woods ringing.
A bullet pierced my true love's side
In life's young spring so early.
And on my breast in blood she died
While soft winds shook the barley.

But blood for blood without remorse
I've taen at oulart hollow.
I've lain my true loves clay like corpse
Where I full soon must follow.
Around her grave I've wandered drear
Noon, night, and morning early.
With breaking heart when eer I hear
The wind that shakes the barley.


Sometimes words don't need to be your own.

Posted by Pernicious at September 28, 2006 1:04 AM

Comments

Sings like a nightingale.

Posted by: Monkeyspit at October 8, 2006 9:59 PM
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