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Loughrask [I Was Just Seventeen]

Danny Carnahan
Lingua: Inglese



Trad., arr. David Carnahan
http://www.mudcat.org
I was just seventeen when to West Clare I came
To serve Lord O'Lachlann and fight in his name
And he gave me a sword and he promised me fame
If I'd lay down my life for the Burren
But worries we'd none through the westering year
As I courted my maiden and hunted the deer
And my sword gathered dust as we'd nothing to fear
Till the snows brought a messenger riding
And he cried a fierce army crossed over the far hills
Our land to despoil, our cattle to kill
So we took up our banner and marched with a will
To beat them away from the Burren

So certain of glory we marched with the tide
Through snow covered stones where the wild rabbits hide
And we stopped where Loughrask lay so peaceful and wide
And a cry echoed over the water
And the grey hag she rose where no foot hold could be
In the still waters wide with her back to the sea
Saying soldier of Lachlann take warning from me
Get you gone Lord O'Lachlann, return while you may
For your fate is decreed if you march on your way
And no man may fight with you and live out the day
And a cold wind will blow on the Burren

Lachlann just smiled as he raised up his hand
I hark not to vision nor bow to demand
And there's no one on earth be devil or man
Can lure me to faithless surrender
And the cursed outlanders who march to the fore
Will rue the cruel fate that has tempted them o'er
For we go in God's name as we march on to war
So to heaven or hell as it please you
And I wanted to run but I didn't dare try
And the hag she just stood as our army marched by
And I wish I'd spit in my Lord Lachlann's eye
For a cold wind blew on the Burren

The foe fell upon us with scarcely a sound
And we froze in confusion, fair feast for their hounds
And quickly and cruelly they cut Lachlann down
And they harvested us like ripe barley
And now wounded I lie though my warning was clear
And scarce was the glory awaiting me here
And this heart that beat only to comfort my dear
Now stains the white snows of the evening
Were we true to our duty, God only knows
And it won't even matter to Him, I suppose
When we melt away with the last winter's snows

inviata da Riccardo Venturi - 21/11/2005 - 20:53



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