文本歌词

Richard Burton - Fern Hill
Now as I was young and easy
Under the apple boughs
About the lilting house and
Happy as the grass was
Green
The night above the dingle starry
Time let me hail and climb
Golden in the heydays of his eyes
And honoured among wagons
I was prince of the apple
Towns
And once below a time
I lordly had the trees and leaves
Trail with daisies and barley
Down the rivers of the windfall light
And as I was green and carefree
Famous among the barns
About the happy yard and
Singing as the farm was home
In the sun that is young once only
Time let me play and be
Golden in the mercy of his means
And green and golden
I was huntsman and herdsman the
Calves
Sang to my horn
The foxes on the hills barked clear
And
Cold
And the sabbath rang slowly
In the pebbles of the holy streams
All the sun long it was running
It was lovely the hay
Fields high as the house
The tunes from the chimneys
It was
Air
And playing lovely and watery
And fire green as grass
And nightly under the simple stars
As I rode to sleep
The owls were bearing the farm away
All the moon long I heard
Blessed among stables the
Nightjars
Flying with the ricks and the horses
Flashing into the dark
And then to awake and the farm
Like a wanderer white
With the dew come back the cock on his shoulder:
It Was all
Shining it was Adam and maiden
The sky gathered again
And the sun grew round that very day
So it must have been after the birth of the simple
Light
In the first spinning place the spellbound horses
Walking
Warm
Out of the whinnying green stable
On to the fields of praise
And honoured among foxes and
Pheasants by the gay house
Under the new made clouds and
Happy as the heart was
Long
In the sun born over and over
I ran my heedless ways
My wishes raced through the house high hay
And nothing I cared
At my sky blue trades that time
Allows
In all his tuneful turning so few and such morning
Songs
Before the children green and golden
Follow him out of grace
Nothing I cared in the lamb white days
That time Would
Take me
Up to the swallow thronged
Loft by the shadow of my
Hand
In the moon that is always rising
Nor that riding to sleep
I should hear him fly with the high fields
And wake to the farm
Forever fled from the childless
Land
Oh as I was young and easy
In the mercy of his means
Time held me green and dying
Though I sang in my chains like the sea