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Balade Irlandaise : Altan " Daily Growing "

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  • Balade Irlandaise : Altan " Daily Growing "



    Voila Une vidéo que j'ai fais en deux seconde, il n'y a qu'une image mais de toute maniere y arien a voir c'est tout a l'ouie et a l'imagination.

    Bon l'histoire, ca se passe au moyen age, un papa modeste qui marie sa jeune fille de 24 ans a un jeune homme de 14 ans fils de seigneur...

    Paroles:

    The trees, they grow high, and the leaves, they do grow green
    Many is the time my true love I've seen
    Many an hour I watched him all alone
    He's young but he's daily growing

    Father, dear father, you've done me great wrong
    You have married me to a boy who is too young
    I am twice twelve and he is but fourteen
    He's young but he's daily growing

    Daughter, dear daughter, I've done you no wrong
    I have married you to a great lord's son
    And he will be a man for you when I am dead and gone
    He's young but he's daily growing

    Father, dear father, if you see fit
    We'll send him to college for another year yet
    I'll tie a blue ribbon all around his head
    To let the maidens know that he is married

    One day I was looking over my father's castle wall
    I spied all the boys playing with a ball
    And my own true love, he was the flower of them all
    He's young but he's daily growing

    And so early in the morning at the dawning of the day
    They went into a hayfield for to have some sport and play
    And what they did there she never would declare
    But she never more complained of his growing

    At the age of fourteen he was a married man
    At the age of fifteen, the father of my son
    At the age of sixteen, his grave, it was green
    And death had put an end to his growing

    I'll buy my love some flannel, I'll make my love a shroud
    And every stitch I put in it, the tears, they'll pour down
    Amd every stitch I put in it, how the tears, they will flow
    Cruel fate has put an end to his growing
    Soyons ce que nous sommes.Cessons d'etre ce qu'on voudrait qu'on soit.Nous n'avons jamais été ce qu'on prétend que nous fûmes.


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