Luyện nghe bài hát Ballad Of The Harp Weaver

Son said my mother when I was high
You need of clothes to cover you and not a rag I
There's nothing in the house to a boy's britches
Nor shears to cut a cloth with nor thread to take
There's in the house but a leaf end of rye
And the harp with a with the woman's head nobody will by and she to cry
That was in the early fall and when came the late
Son she said the sight of you your mother's blood crawl
Little skinny shoulder stickin' through your clothes
And where you get a jacket God above knows
It's lucky for me lad your daddy's in the
And can't see the way I let his son go around and she a queer sound
That was in the late fall when the winter
I'd not a pair of bridges nor a shirt to my
I couldn't go to or out of doors to play
And all the other boys passed our way
Son said my mother come into my lap
And I'll chave little knees while you take a nap
And oh but we silly for half an hour or more
Me with my legs draggin' on the floor
I rocked rocked rocked to a mother goose
Oh but we were happy for half an time
But there was I a great boy and would folks say
To hear my mother me to sleep all day in such a daft way
Men say the winter was bad that year was scarce 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 left us was a chair we couldn't
And the harp with the woman's head nobody would for song or pity sake
The before Christmas I cried with the cold
I cried to sleep like a two year old
And in the deep night I felt my mother
And stare down upon me with in her eyes
I saw my mother sitting on the one good
A light falling on her 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 fingers in the thin tall strings
Were weave weave wonderful things
Many threads from where I couldn't see
Were running through the harp rapidly
And gold whistlin' through my mother's hands
I saw the web grow and the pattern
She wove a child's jacket and when it was
She laid it on the floor and wove one
She wove a red cloak so to see
made it for a king's son I said and not for me but I knew it was for me
She wove a pair of bridges and than that
She wove a pair of boots a little hat
She wove a pair of mittens she wove a little
She wove all in the still cold house
She sang as she and the harp strings spoke
But her never faltered and the thread never broke
But when I awoke sat my mother
With the harp against her shoulder lookin' nineteen and not a day
A smile about her lips and a light her head
And her hands in the strings frozen dead
And piled up beside her to the skies
Were the clothes of a king's son just my