I feel like I am fading : 無料・フリー素材/写真
I feel like I am fading / HyperBob
| ライセンス | クリエイティブ・コモンズ 表示-継承 2.1 |
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| 説明 | My mother died when I was 8. I was shipped off to an aunt's while the funeral was arranged. I did not attend the funeral, and nobody ever spoke about her dying. I suppose all the relatives were being sensitive, and protecting my innocence. I did not see the mourning process. There was no expression of grief. If I had been at the graveside I would have surely seen some tears . I never saw my father crying over the loss of his wife, and he never talked to me about it. But I do remember one incident that has stayed with me for life. We lived in an upstairs house and if you lifted the letterbox lid you could look right up the stairs to the top of the landing. My father loved to stand at the top of the stairs and play the fiddle. He said it was because the acoustics were good.One day, soon after my mother had died, I came home and I could hear him playing at the top of the stairs. Instead of opening the door and going in, I lifted the letterbox lid and peered into the gloom. He was playing "the flowers o' the forest have a wee'd a'waw", a lament to grieve the dead at the battle of Floddden moor, and what pain and sorrow he had never been able to say in words cames streaming out of him in this one song. I was hearing that my mother was the fairest flower, and sweet was her perfume, but the bloom faded, and withered away. I blinked back the tears in my eyes and I let the letterbox lid quietly drop. I waited until he had finished playing then went in.He didn't say anything, and I didn't say anything either. Have a listen to the song via the link above, and below are the words to help you understand it, if you are not familiar with the Scottish accent.Alison Rutherford Cockburn (1712–1794)I’ve seen the smilingOf Fortune beguiling;I’ve felt all its favours, and found its decay;Sweet was its blessing,Kind its caressing;But now it is fled—fled far away.I’ve seen the forestAdorned the foremost,With flowers of the fairest, most pleasant and gay;Sae bonnie was their blooming!Their scent the air perfuming!But now they are withered and a’ wede away.I’ve seen the morningWith gold the hills adorning,And loud tempest storming before the mid-day.I’ve seen Tweed’s silver streams,Shinning in the sunny beamsGrow drumly and dark as he rowed on his way.Oh, fickle Fortune!Why this cruel sporting?Oh, why still perplex us, poor sons of a day?Nae mair your smiles can cheer me,Nae mair your frowns can fear me;For the flowers of the forest are a’ wede away.(Written around fathers day) |
| 撮影日 | 2005-02-19 19:12:22 |
| 撮影者 | HyperBob |
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