Luyện nghe bài hát Ballad Of The Harp Weaver

Son said my mother I was knee high
You need of to cover you and not a rag have I
There's nothing in the house to a boy's britches
Nor shears to cut a with nor thread to take stitches
There's in the house but a leaf end of rye
And the harp with a with the 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 your blood crawl
Little skinny blades stickin' through your clothes
And you get a jacket from God above knows
It's lucky for me lad daddy's in the ground
And can't see the way I let his son go around and she a queer sound
That was in the late 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 doors to
And all the other boys passed our way
Son said my mother come into my lap
And chave your little knees while you take a nap
And oh but we were silly for half an hour or
Me my long legs draggin' on the floor
I rocked rocked rocked to a mother rhyme
Oh but we were for half an hour's time
But there was I a great boy and what folks say
To hear my mother singin' me to all day in such a daft way
Men say the winter was bad that year fuel was scarce and was dear
A with a wolf's head howled about our door
And we burned up the chairs and sat the floor
All that was left us was a chair we couldn't
And the harp the woman's head nobody would take for song or pity sake
The night before Christmas I cried the cold
I cried myself to like a two year old
And in the deep night I felt my mother
And stare down upon me love in her eyes
I saw my mother sitting on the one good
A light falling on her face from I tell where
Looking nineteen and not a day
And the with the woman's head leaned against her shoulder
Her thin fingers moving in the thin strings
Were weave weaving wonderful things
bright threads from where I couldn't see
Were running through the harp strings
And threads whistlin' through my mother's hands
I saw the web grow and the expand
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 it for a king's son I said and not for me but I knew it was for me
She wove a pair of and quicker than that
She wove a pair of boots a cocked hat
She wove a pair of mittens she wove a blouse
She wove all night in the still house
She sang as she worked and the harp spoke
But her voice never faltered and the thread never
But when I there sat my mother
With the harp against her shoulder lookin' and not a day older
A smile about her lips and a about her head
And her hands in the harp strings frozen
And piled up her toppling to the skies
the clothes of a king's son just my size