Dylan Thomas《In The White Giant s Thigh》[MP3_LRC]

[00:00.00]90听音乐网 www.90T8.com  [00:00.39]In The White Giant's Thigh - Dylan Thomas [00:13.44]Through throats where many rivers meet the curlews cry [00:18.40]Under the conceiving moon on the high chalk hill [00:23.06]And there this night I walk in the white giant's thigh [00:27.19]Where barren as boulders women lie longing still [00:31.30]To labour and love though they lay down long ago [00:36.95]Through throats where many rivers meet the women pray [00:40.83]Pleading in the waded bay for the seed to flow [00:44.98]Though the names on their w**d grown stones are rained [00:48.12]Away [00:49.94]And alone in the night's eternal curving act [00:54.17]They yearn with tongues of curlews for the unconceived [00:58.82]And immemorial sons of the cudgelling hacked [01:03.64]Hill who once in gooseskin winter loved all ice leaved [01:10.35]In the courters' lanes or twined in the ox roasting [01:14.72]Sun [01:15.40]In the wains tonned so high that the wisps of the hay [01:19.88]Clung to the pitching clouds or gay with any one [01:24.22]Young as they in the after milking moonlight lay [01:28.36]Under the lighted shapes of faith and their moonshade [01:32.69]Petticoats galed high or shy with the rough riding [01:37.94]Boys [01:39.75]Now clasp me to their grains in the gigantic glade [01:45.13]Who once green countries since were a hedgerow of [01:50.37]Joys [01:52.66]Time by their dust was flesh the swineherd rooted sly [01:58.62]Flared in the reek of the wiving sty with the rush [02:01.63]Light of his thighs spreadeagle to the dunghill sky [02:07.29]Or with their orchard man in the core of the sun's bush [02:11.42]Rough as cows' tongues and trashed with brambles their [02:16.00]Buttermilk [02:16.65]Manes under his quenchless summer barbed gold to the [02:22.49]Bone [02:24.51]Or rippling soft in the spinney moon as the silk [02:29.32]And ducked and draked white lake that harps to a hail [02:33.86]Stone [02:36.27]Who once were a bloom of wayside brides in the hawed [02:40.49]House [02:41.57]And heard the lewd wooed field flow to the coming [02:44.81]Frost [02:45.97]The scurrying furred small friars squeal in the dowse [02:50.28]Of day in the thistle aisles till the white owl [02:54.19]Crossed [02:55.06]Their breast the vaulting does roister the horned [02:59.30]Bucks climb [03:00.30]Quick in the wood at love where a torch of foxes [03:03.95]Foams [03:05.66]All birds and beasts of the linked night uproar and [03:09.19]Chime [03:11.22]And the mole snout blunt under his pilgrimage of domes [03:16.93]Or butter fat goosegirls bounced in a gambo bed [03:21.78]Their breasts full of honey under their gander king [03:25.30]Trounced by his wings in the hissing shippen long dead [03:29.88]And gone that barley dark where their clogs danced in [03:34.41]The spring [03:35.83]And their firefly hairpins flew and the ricks ran [03:40.07]Round [03:41.70]But nothing bore no mouthing babe to the veined hives [03:46.78]Hugged and barren and bare on Mother Goose's ground [03:52.09]They with the simple Jacks were a boulder of wives [03:57.62]Now curlew cry me down to kiss the mouths of their [04:03.25]Dust [04:05.96]The dust of their kettles and clocks swings to and fro [04:09.73]Where the hay rides now or the bracken kitchens rust [04:14.32]As the arc of the billhooks that flashed the hedges low [04:18.14]And cut the birds' boughs that the minstrel sap ran [04:23.27]Red [04:24.64]They from houses where the harvest bows hold me hard [04:29.65]Who heard the tall bell sail down the Sundays of the [04:33.97]Dead [04:35.34]And the rain wring out it's tongues on the faded yard [04:40.81]Teach me the love that is evergreen after the fall [04:45.08]Leaved [04:45.95]Grave after Beloved on the grass gulfed cross is [04:51.34]Scrubbed [04:51.85]Off by the sun and Daughters no longer grieved [04:57.41]Save by their long desirers in the fox cubbed [05:02.70]Streets or hungering in the crumbled wood to these [05:10.15]Hale dead and deathless do the women of the hill [05:16.29]Love for ever meridian through the courters' trees [05:22.98]And the daughters of darkness flame like Fawkes fires [05:29.37]Still