Luyện nghe bài hát Ballad Of The Harp Weaver

Son my mother when I was knee high
You need of clothes to you and not a rag have I
There's nothing in the to make a boy's britches
Nor shears to cut a cloth with nor thread to stitches
There's in the house but a leaf end of rye
And the harp 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 you get a jacket from 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 bridges nor a to my name
I go to school or out of doors to play
And all the little boys passed our way
Son said my mother climb into my lap
And chave your little knees while you take a nap
And oh but we silly for half an hour or more
Me with my long legs draggin' on the
I rocked rocked rocked to a mother rhyme
Oh but we happy for half an hour's time
But there was I a boy and what would folks say
To hear my mother me to sleep all day in such a daft way
Men say the winter was bad year fuel was scarce and food was dear
A wind with a wolf's head howled about our
And we up the chairs and sat upon the floor
All that was left us was a chair we couldn't
And the harp with the woman's head would take for song or pity sake
The night Christmas I cried with the cold
I cried to sleep like a two year old
And in the deep night I felt my rise
And stare upon me with love in her eyes
I saw my mother sitting on the one good
A light on her face from I couldn't tell where
Looking nineteen and not a day
And the harp the woman's head leaned against her shoulder
Her thin fingers moving in the thin tall
Were weave weaving wonderful things
Many bright threads from I couldn't see
Were running through the harp strings
And gold whistlin' through my mother's hands
I saw the web and the pattern expand
She wove a jacket and when it was done
She it on the floor and wove another one
She wove a red so regal to see
She's made it for a son I said and not for me but I knew it was for me
She a pair of bridges and quicker than that
She wove a of boots a little cocked hat
She wove a of mittens she wove a little blouse
She wove all night in the cold house
She sang as she worked and the strings spoke
But her voice never faltered and the thread never
But I awoke there sat my mother
With the harp her shoulder lookin' nineteen and not a day older
A smile her lips and a light about her head
And her hands in the harp strings dead
And piled up beside her toppling to the
Were the clothes of a king's son just my