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 make a boy's
Nor shears to cut a with nor thread to take stitches
There's nothing in the house but a end of rye
And the harp with a with the woman's head nobody by and she began to cry
That was in the early fall and when came the fall
Son she said the sight of you makes mother's blood crawl
Little skinny shoulder blades stickin' through clothes
And you get a jacket from God above knows
lucky 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 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 passed our way
Son my mother come climb into my lap
And I'll chave your little while you take a nap
And oh but we were silly for half an hour or
Me with my legs draggin' on the floor
I rocked rocked to a mother goose 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 wind a wolf's head howled about our door
And we burned up the and sat upon the floor
All that was left us was a chair we break
And the harp with the woman's head nobody would take for song or pity
The night before Christmas I cried with the
I cried myself to sleep like a two old
And in the deep I felt my mother rise
And stare upon me with love in her eyes
I saw my mother sitting on the one good
A light falling on her from I couldn't tell where
nineteen and not a day older
And the harp with the woman's leaned against her shoulder
Her thin fingers in the thin tall strings
Were weave weave weaving things
Many bright threads from where I 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 child's jacket and it was done
She laid it on the floor and wove one
She wove a red cloak so to see
She's made it for a son I said and not for me but I knew it was for me
She wove a pair of bridges and quicker that
She wove a pair of boots a cocked hat
She wove a pair of she wove a little blouse
She all night in the still cold house
She as she worked and the harp strings spoke
But her voice never faltered and the thread never
But when I awoke there sat my
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 strings frozen dead
And piled up beside her to the skies
Were the clothes of a king's son my size