Three Horses Lyrics

Song	Three Horses
Artist	Joan Baez
Album	Blessed Are...
Download	Image LRC TXT

	作词 : Baez
	(Words and Music by Joan Baez)
	In the early dawn a stallion white
	prances the hills in the morning light.
	His bridle is painted with thunder and gold,
	orchids and dragons, pale knights of old.
	He is the horse of the ages past.
	And now the children run to see
	the stallion on the hill,
	bringing bags of apples
	and of clover they have filled.
	And the white horse tells his stories
	of the days now past and gone
	and the children stand a-wondering
	believing every song.
	How brightly glows the past.
	When the sun is high comes a mare so red,
	trampling the graves of the living and dead.
	Her mantle is heavy with mirrors and glass,
	all is reflected when the red mare does pass.
	She is the horse of the here and now.
	And now there is confusion
	amongst the children on the hill.
	They cling to one another
	and no longer can be still.
	While the red mare's voice is trembling
	with a rare and mighty call,
	the children start remembering
	the bearers and the pall.
	And though their many-colored sweaters
	are reflected in the glass,
	and though the sun shines down upon them,
	they are frightened in the grass.
	How stark is the here and now.
	When night does fall comes a stallion black,
	so proud and tall he never looks back.
	He wears him no emeralds, silver and gold,
	not even a covering to keep him from cold.
	He is the horse of the years to come.
	And I will get me down
	before this steed upon my knees
	and sing to him the sorrows
	of a thousand centuries.
	And the children now will scatter
	as their mothers call them home,
	for the sadness of the evening horse
	no child has ever known.
	And I will hang about him
	a bell that's never rung
	and thank him for the many words
	which from his throat have never sprung.
	And I'll thank God and all the angels
	that the stallion of the evening,
	the black horse of the future,
	comes to earth but has no tongue.
	© 1971 Chandos Music (ASCAP)

	zuo ci : Baez
	Words and Music by Joan Baez
	In the early dawn a stallion white
	prances the hills in the morning light.
	His bridle is painted with thunder and gold,
	orchids and dragons, pale knights of old.
	He is the horse of the ages past.
	And now the children run to see
	the stallion on the hill,
	bringing bags of apples
	and of clover they have filled.
	And the white horse tells his stories
	of the days now past and gone
	and the children stand awondering
	believing every song.
	How brightly glows the past.
	When the sun is high comes a mare so red,
	trampling the graves of the living and dead.
	Her mantle is heavy with mirrors and glass,
	all is reflected when the red mare does pass.
	She is the horse of the here and now.
	And now there is confusion
	amongst the children on the hill.
	They cling to one another
	and no longer can be still.
	While the red mare' s voice is trembling
	with a rare and mighty call,
	the children start remembering
	the bearers and the pall.
	And though their manycolored sweaters
	are reflected in the glass,
	and though the sun shines down upon them,
	they are frightened in the grass.
	How stark is the here and now.
	When night does fall comes a stallion black,
	so proud and tall he never looks back.
	He wears him no emeralds, silver and gold,
	not even a covering to keep him from cold.
	He is the horse of the years to come.
	And I will get me down
	before this steed upon my knees
	and sing to him the sorrows
	of a thousand centuries.
	And the children now will scatter
	as their mothers call them home,
	for the sadness of the evening horse
	no child has ever known.
	And I will hang about him
	a bell that' s never rung
	and thank him for the many words
	which from his throat have never sprung.
	And I' ll thank God and all the angels
	that the stallion of the evening,
	the black horse of the future,
	comes to earth but has no tongue.
	1971 Chandos Music ASCAP

	zuò cí : Baez
	Words and Music by Joan Baez
	In the early dawn a stallion white
	prances the hills in the morning light.
	His bridle is painted with thunder and gold,
	orchids and dragons, pale knights of old.
	He is the horse of the ages past.
	And now the children run to see
	the stallion on the hill,
	bringing bags of apples
	and of clover they have filled.
	And the white horse tells his stories
	of the days now past and gone
	and the children stand awondering
	believing every song.
	How brightly glows the past.
	When the sun is high comes a mare so red,
	trampling the graves of the living and dead.
	Her mantle is heavy with mirrors and glass,
	all is reflected when the red mare does pass.
	She is the horse of the here and now.
	And now there is confusion
	amongst the children on the hill.
	They cling to one another
	and no longer can be still.
	While the red mare' s voice is trembling
	with a rare and mighty call,
	the children start remembering
	the bearers and the pall.
	And though their manycolored sweaters
	are reflected in the glass,
	and though the sun shines down upon them,
	they are frightened in the grass.
	How stark is the here and now.
	When night does fall comes a stallion black,
	so proud and tall he never looks back.
	He wears him no emeralds, silver and gold,
	not even a covering to keep him from cold.
	He is the horse of the years to come.
	And I will get me down
	before this steed upon my knees
	and sing to him the sorrows
	of a thousand centuries.
	And the children now will scatter
	as their mothers call them home,
	for the sadness of the evening horse
	no child has ever known.
	And I will hang about him
	a bell that' s never rung
	and thank him for the many words
	which from his throat have never sprung.
	And I' ll thank God and all the angels
	that the stallion of the evening,
	the black horse of the future,
	comes to earth but has no tongue.
	1971 Chandos Music ASCAP

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