Luyện nghe bài hát Ballad Of The Harp Weaver

Son said my mother I was knee high
You need of clothes to 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 harp with a with the woman's head nobody will by and she 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 lucky for me lad your in the ground
And can't see the way I let his son go and she made a queer sound
That was in the fall when the winter came
I'd not a pair of bridges nor a to my name
I couldn't go to school or out of to play
And all the other little passed our way
Son said my come climb into my lap
And I'll your little knees while you take a nap
And oh but we were silly for an hour or more
Me with my long draggin' on the floor
I rocked rocked to a mother goose 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 singin' me to 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 our door
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 nobody would take for or pity sake
The night before I cried with the cold
I myself to sleep like a two year old
And in the deep night I felt my rise
And stare down upon me with love in her
I saw my sitting on the one good chair
A falling on her face from I couldn't tell where
nineteen 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 weave weaving wonderful
Many threads from where I couldn't see
Were running through the strings rapidly
And gold whistlin' through my mother's hands
I saw the web grow and the pattern
She wove a jacket and when it was done
She laid it on the floor and another one
She a red cloak 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 quicker that
She wove a pair of boots a little hat
She wove a pair of mittens she a little blouse
She wove all night in the still house
She sang as she and the harp strings spoke
But her voice never faltered and the never broke
But when I awoke sat my mother
With the harp against her shoulder lookin' nineteen and not a day
A smile her lips and a light about her head
And her hands in the harp strings dead
And piled up her toppling to the skies
Were the clothes of a son just my size