Song | Silent O Moyle |
Artist | Méav |
Album | Silver Sea |
Download | Image LRC TXT |
作曲 : Traditional | |
作词 : Thomas Moore | |
Silent, oh Moyle, be the roar of thy water | |
Break not, ye breezes, your chain of repose | |
While murmuring mournfully, Lir's lonely daughter | |
Tells to the night star her tale of woes | |
When shall the swan, her death note singing | |
Sleep with wings in darkness furled? | |
When shall Heav'n, its sweet bell ringing | |
Call my spirit from this stormy world? | |
Sadly, oh Moyle, to thy winter wave weeping | |
Fate bids me languish long ages away | |
Yet still in her darkness doth Erin lie sleeping | |
Still doth the pure light its dawning delay | |
When will that day star, mildly springing | |
Warm our isle with peace and love? | |
When shall Heav'n, its sweet bell ringing | |
Call my spirit to the fields above? | |
Call my spirit to the fields above? |
zuo qu : Traditional | |
zuo ci : Thomas Moore | |
Silent, oh Moyle, be the roar of thy water | |
Break not, ye breezes, your chain of repose | |
While murmuring mournfully, Lir' s lonely daughter | |
Tells to the night star her tale of woes | |
When shall the swan, her death note singing | |
Sleep with wings in darkness furled? | |
When shall Heav' n, its sweet bell ringing | |
Call my spirit from this stormy world? | |
Sadly, oh Moyle, to thy winter wave weeping | |
Fate bids me languish long ages away | |
Yet still in her darkness doth Erin lie sleeping | |
Still doth the pure light its dawning delay | |
When will that day star, mildly springing | |
Warm our isle with peace and love? | |
When shall Heav' n, its sweet bell ringing | |
Call my spirit to the fields above? | |
Call my spirit to the fields above? |
zuò qǔ : Traditional | |
zuò cí : Thomas Moore | |
Silent, oh Moyle, be the roar of thy water | |
Break not, ye breezes, your chain of repose | |
While murmuring mournfully, Lir' s lonely daughter | |
Tells to the night star her tale of woes | |
When shall the swan, her death note singing | |
Sleep with wings in darkness furled? | |
When shall Heav' n, its sweet bell ringing | |
Call my spirit from this stormy world? | |
Sadly, oh Moyle, to thy winter wave weeping | |
Fate bids me languish long ages away | |
Yet still in her darkness doth Erin lie sleeping | |
Still doth the pure light its dawning delay | |
When will that day star, mildly springing | |
Warm our isle with peace and love? | |
When shall Heav' n, its sweet bell ringing | |
Call my spirit to the fields above? | |
Call my spirit to the fields above? |