Luyện nghe bài hát Ballad Of The Harp Weaver

Son said my mother when I was knee
You of clothes to cover you and not a rag have I
There's nothing in the house to a boy's britches
Nor to cut a cloth with nor thread 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 when the late fall
Son she said the sight of you makes mother's blood crawl
Little skinny shoulder blades through your clothes
And where you get a jacket from God above
It's lucky for me lad your daddy's in the
And see the way I let his son go around and she made a queer sound
was in the late fall when the winter came
I'd not a of bridges nor a shirt to my name
I couldn't go to school or out of to play
And all the other little boys our way
Son said my come climb into my lap
And I'll chave your little knees while you a nap
And oh but we silly for half an hour or more
Me with my legs draggin' on the floor
I rocked rocked to a mother goose rhyme
Oh but we were happy for half an 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 with a head howled about our door
And we burned up the and sat upon the floor
All that was us was a chair we couldn't break
And the harp with the woman's head nobody would for song or pity sake
The night before Christmas I cried with the
I myself to sleep like a two year old
And in the deep I felt my mother rise
And stare down upon me with love in her
I saw my mother sitting on the one good
A falling on her face from I couldn't tell where
Looking nineteen and not a day
And the harp with the woman's head leaned her shoulder
Her thin moving in the thin tall strings
Were weave weave weaving wonderful
Many bright from where I couldn't see
Were through the harp strings rapidly
And threads whistlin' through my mother's hands
I saw the web and the pattern expand
She a child's jacket and when it was done
She laid it on the and wove another one
She wove a red so regal to see
She's made it for a king's son I said and not for me but I it was for me
She wove a pair of bridges and than that
She wove a pair of a little cocked hat
She a pair of mittens she wove a little blouse
She wove all night in the still cold
She sang as she worked and the harp strings
But her voice never faltered and the thread never
But when I there sat my mother
With the harp against her shoulder nineteen and not a day older
A smile about her and a light about her head
And her in the harp strings frozen dead
And piled up her toppling to the skies
Were the of a king's son just my size