Luyện nghe bài hát Ballad Of The Harp Weaver

Son said my mother when I was high
You of clothes to cover you and not a rag have I
There's in the house to make a boy's britches
Nor shears to cut a cloth with nor to take stitches
nothing in the house but a leaf end of rye
And the with a with the woman's head nobody will by and she began to cry
That was in the early fall and came the late fall
Son she said the sight of you makes your mother's blood
Little skinny shoulder blades stickin' your clothes
And where you get a jacket God above knows
It's for me lad your daddy's in the ground
And can't see the way I let his son go and she made a queer sound
That was in the late fall the winter came
I'd not a pair of nor a shirt to my name
I couldn't go to school or out of doors to
And all the little boys passed our way
Son said my mother come into my lap
And I'll chave your little knees you take a nap
And oh but we were silly for half an hour or
Me with my long legs draggin' on the
I rocked rocked to a mother goose rhyme
Oh but we were happy for an hour's time
But there was I a great boy and what folks say
To hear my mother singin' me to sleep all day in a daft way
Men say the winter was bad that year fuel was and food was dear
A wind a wolf's head howled about our door
And we up the chairs and sat upon the floor
All was left us was a chair we couldn't break
And the harp with the woman's head nobody would take for song or sake
The before Christmas I cried with the cold
I cried myself to like a two year old
And in the night I felt my mother rise
And stare upon me with love in her eyes
I saw my mother sitting on the one good
A light falling on her from I couldn't tell where
Looking and not a day older
And the harp with the woman's head leaned her shoulder
Her thin fingers moving in the tall strings
Were weave weaving wonderful things
Many bright threads from where I see
Were running through the strings rapidly
And gold threads whistlin' my mother's hands
I saw the web grow and the expand
She wove a child's and when it was done
She laid it on the and wove another one
She wove a red cloak so to see
She's made it for a son I said and not for me but I knew it was for me
She wove a pair of bridges and quicker than
She wove a pair of boots a little hat
She wove a pair of she wove a little blouse
She wove all in the still cold house
She as she worked and the harp strings spoke
But her voice never faltered and the thread broke
But I awoke there sat my mother
With the harp against her lookin' nineteen and not a day older
A about her lips and a light about her head
And her hands in the harp strings frozen
And piled up beside her to the skies
Were the clothes of a son just my size