Jack Butler Yeats - Singing "Oh had I the Wings of a Swallow", 1925Via Bert Christensen
Jack Butler Yeats, né en 1871, est le frère du poète. C'est aussi le grand peintre irlandais du début du XXème siècle. En 1925, au moment même où son style évolue vers l'expressionnisme, il peint cette jeune fille vue dans un train qui traversait au soleil couchant le comté de Kildare. Elle faisait la manche de wagon en wagon en chantant If I had the wings of a swallow - Si j'avais les ailes de l'hirondelle, une chanson de Richard W. Pasco dont le vrai titre est Little Town In The Old County Down.
John McCormack, le grand ténor irlandais de l'époque, chante Little Town In The Old County Down
Mis en ligne par patriot4913
If I had the wings of a swallow,
I would travel far over the sea;
And a rocky old road I would follow,
To a spot that is heaven to me.
When the sun goes to rest way down in the west,
Then I'll build such a nest in the place I love best.
In the dear little town in the old County Down,
It will linger way down in my heart;
Though it never was grand it is my fairyland,
Just a wonderful world set apart.
Oh, my Ireland of dreams you are with me it seems,
And I care not for fame or renown;
Like the black sheep of old I'll come back to the fold,
Little town in the old County Down.
In the evening when shadows are falling,
'Round the old door without any key;
There's a voice in my dreams ever calling,
Ever watching and praying for me.
There is someone I bless with true tenderness,
And her lips I'll caress when I bring happiness.
To that dear little town in the old County Down,
It will linger way down in my heart;
Though it never was grand it was my fairyland,
Just a wonderful world set apart.
Oh, my Ireland of dreams you are with me it seems,
And I care not for fame or renown;
Like the black sheep of old I'll come back to the fold,
Little town in the old County Down.
I would travel far over the sea;
And a rocky old road I would follow,
To a spot that is heaven to me.
When the sun goes to rest way down in the west,
Then I'll build such a nest in the place I love best.
In the dear little town in the old County Down,
It will linger way down in my heart;
Though it never was grand it is my fairyland,
Just a wonderful world set apart.
Oh, my Ireland of dreams you are with me it seems,
And I care not for fame or renown;
Like the black sheep of old I'll come back to the fold,
Little town in the old County Down.
In the evening when shadows are falling,
'Round the old door without any key;
There's a voice in my dreams ever calling,
Ever watching and praying for me.
There is someone I bless with true tenderness,
And her lips I'll caress when I bring happiness.
To that dear little town in the old County Down,
It will linger way down in my heart;
Though it never was grand it was my fairyland,
Just a wonderful world set apart.
Oh, my Ireland of dreams you are with me it seems,
And I care not for fame or renown;
Like the black sheep of old I'll come back to the fold,
Little town in the old County Down.
Aucun commentaire:
Enregistrer un commentaire