《Over Sir John’s Hill》歌词

[00:00:00] Over Sir John's Hill - Dylan Thomas

[00:00:02] Over Sir John's hill

[00:00:04] The hawk on fire hangs still

[00:00:08] In a hoisted cloud at drop of dusk he pulls to his

[00:00:12] Claws

[00:00:13] And gallows up the rays of his eyes the small birds of

[00:00:17] The bay

[00:00:18] And the shrill child's play

[00:00:21] Wars

[00:00:22] Of the sparrows and such who swansing dusk in

[00:00:27] Wrangling hedges

[00:00:29] And blithely they squawk

[00:00:31] To fiery tyburn over the wrestle of elms until

[00:00:35] The flash the noosed hawk

[00:00:37] Crashes and slowly the fishing holy stalking heron

[00:00:43] In the river Towy below bows his tilted headstone

[00:00:50] Flash and the plumes crack

[00:00:52] And a black cap of jack

[00:00:54] Daws Sir John's just hill dons and again the gulled

[00:00:59] Birds hare

[00:01:01] To the hawk on fire the halter height over Towy's

[00:01:05] Fins

[00:01:06] In a whack of wind

[00:01:08] There

[00:01:09] Where the elegiac fisherbird stabs and paddles

[00:01:13] In the pebbly dab-filled

[00:01:15] Shallow and sedge and dilly dilly calls the loft

[00:01:20] Hawk

[00:01:21] Come and be killed

[00:01:23] I open the leaves of the water at a passage

[00:01:26] Of psalms and shadows among the pincered sandcrabs

[00:01:31] Prancing

[00:01:33] And read in a shell

[00:01:36] Death clear as a bouy's bell

[00:01:39] All praise of the hawk on fire in hawk-eyed dusk be

[00:01:43] Sung

[00:01:45] When his viperish fuse hangs looped with flames under

[00:01:48] The brand

[00:01:48] Wing and blest shall

[00:01:51] Young

[00:01:52] Green chickens of the bay and bushes cluck dilly

[00:01:56] Dilly

[00:01:58] Come let us die

[00:02:01] We grieve as the blithe birds never again leave

[00:02:05] Shingle and elm

[00:02:07] The heron and I

[00:02:09] I young Aesop fabling to the near night by the dingle

[00:02:14] Of eels saint heron hymning in the distant

[00:02:20] Crystal harbour vale

[00:02:22] Where the sea cobbles sail

[00:02:25] And wharves of water where the walls dance and the

[00:02:29] White cranes stilt

[00:02:32] It is the heron and I under judging Sir John's elmed

[00:02:37] Hill tell-tale the knelled

[00:02:40] Guilt

[00:02:41] Of the led-astray birds whom God for their breast of

[00:02:44] Whistles

[00:02:45] Have Mercy on

[00:02:47] God in his whirlwind silence save who marks the

[00:02:52] Sparrows hail

[00:02:54] For their souls' song

[00:02:57] Now the heron grieves in the weeded verge

[00:03:00] Through

[00:03:00] Windows

[00:03:01] Of dusk and water I see the tilting whispering

[00:03:05] Heron mirrored go

[00:03:08] As the snapt feathers snow

[00:03:11] Fishing in the tear of the Towy

[00:03:14] Only a hoot owl

[00:03:15] Hollows a grassblade blown in cupped hands in the

[00:03:20] Looted elms

[00:03:22] And no green cocks or hens

[00:03:25] Shout

[00:03:26] Now on Sir John's hill

[00:03:29] The heron ankling the scaly

[00:03:32] Lowlands of the waves

[00:03:34] Makes all the music and I who hear the tune of the

[00:03:39] Slow

[00:03:39] Wear-willow river grave

[00:03:43] Before the lunge of the night the notes on this time

[00:03:48] Shaken

[00:03:49] Stone for the sake of the souls of the slain birds

[00:03:56] Sailing