《After the Funeral》歌词

[00:00:00] After the Funeral - Dylan Thomas

[00:00:01] After the funeral mule praises brays

[00:00:06] Windshake of sailshaped ears muffle-toed tap

[00:00:10] Tap happily of one peg in the thick

[00:00:13] Grave's foot blinds down the lids the teeth in black

[00:00:16] The spittled eyes the salt ponds in the sleeves

[00:00:20] Morning smack of the spade that wakes up sleep

[00:00:23] Shakes a desolate boy who slits his throat

[00:00:27] In the dark of the coffin and sheds dry leaves

[00:00:31] That breaks one bone to light with a judgment clout

[00:00:37] After the feast of tear-stuffed time and thistles

[00:00:41] In a room with a stuffed fox and a stale fern

[00:00:45] I stand for this memorial's sake alone

[00:00:49] In the snivelling hours with dead humped ann

[00:00:54] Whose hodded fountain heart once fell in puddles

[00:00:59] Round the parched worlds of wales and drowned each sun

[00:01:05] Though this for her is a monstrous image blindly

[00:01:09] Magnified out of praise her death was a still drop

[00:01:14] She would not have me sinking in the holy

[00:01:17] Flood of her heart's fame she would lie dumb and deep

[00:01:23] And need no druid of her broken body

[00:01:28] But I ann's bard on a raised hearth call all

[00:01:33] The seas to service that her wood-tongued virtue

[00:01:37] Babble like a bellbuoy over the hymning heads

[00:01:41] Bow down the walls of the ferned and foxy woods

[00:01:44] That her love sing and swing through a brown chapel

[00:01:48] Blees her bent spirit with four crossing birds

[00:01:55] Her flesh was meek as milk but this skyward statue

[00:02:00] With the wild breast and blessed and giant skull

[00:02:05] Is carved from her in a room with a wet window

[00:02:08] In a fiercely mourning house in a crooked year

[00:02:14] I know her scrubbed and sour humble hands

[00:02:17] Lie with religion in their cramp her threadbare

[00:02:20] Whisper in a damp word her wits drilled hollow

[00:02:24] Her fist of a face died clenched on a round pain

[00:02:29] And sculptured ann is seventy years of stone

[00:02:35] These cloud-sopped marble hands this monumental

[00:02:40] Argument of the hewn voice gesture and psalm

[00:02:43] Storm me forever over her grave until

[00:02:47] The stuffed lung of the fox twitch and cry love

[00:02:52] And the strutting fern lay seeds on the black sill