I Am Stretched on Your Grave (Táim Sínte ar do Thuama)

Words: Traditional
Music by Eithne Ní Uallacháin

I am stretched on your grave and will lie there forever.
If your hands were in mine, I’d be sure we’d not sever.
My apple tree, my brightness, it’s time we were together
For I smell of the earth and I’m worn by the weather.

When my family think that I am safe in my bed,
From night until morning, I am stretched at your head
Calling out to the earth with tears hot and wild
My grief for the girl that I loved as a child.

O do you remember the night we were lost
In the shade of the blackthorn and the chill of the frost?
O thanks be to Jesus we did what was right
And your maidenhead still is your pillar of light.

The priest and the friars approach me in dread
Because I still love you, my life, and you’re dead.
I still would be your shelter through rain and through storm
And with you in your cold grave, I cannot keep warm.

So I am stretched on your grave and would lie there forever
If your hands were in mine I’d be sure we’d not sever.
My apple tree, my brightness it’s time we were together
For I smell of the earth and I’m worn by the weather.

Recordings

Bilingua