Clip - Dalriada- Ágnes asszony (with english lyrics)
Title : Dalriada- Ágnes asszony (with english lyrics) (13:13)
Description : DALRIADA's song WIDOW ÁGNES with English lyrics.
Translated by myself. Original poem by János Arany, poet from the 19th century, look him up on wiki.
http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/J%C3%A1nos_Arany
Widow Ágnes
Widow Ágnes, at the river
Washes her white canvas blanket,
Her white blanket, bloody blanket
The running river's skimmings yank it.
(Oh, merciful father, don't forsake me.)
The kids of the street gather around:
"Mrs. Ágnes, what is this about?"
"Silence, ssh! My chicken's blood
Unfortunately splashed on the shroud."
(Oh, merciful father, don't forsake me.)
The neighbours, they do not disband
"Mrs. Ágnes, where's your husband?"
"But my darlings, he's sleeping in there!
Waking him is not my intent."
(Oh, merciful father, don't forsake me.)
The warden arrives: Widow Ágnes,
Follow me to your cell in chain.
"But my dear, I cannot go,
'Til I have washed away the stain!"
(Oh, merciful father, don't forsake me.)
Deep is the prison: the thin sunlight
Through the window bars hardly fares.
One ray of light is the daytime
And the nights are thick with nightmares.
(Oh, merciful father, don't forsake me.)
Woeful Ágnes, all day long
Stares into this little sunshine.
Stares persisting: all the thin light
Could fit into but one eye.
(Oh, merciful father, don't forsake me.)
For, whenever she turns away
Dancing horrors surround her head
If this little light was not there
Then she would surely go mad.
(Oh, merciful father, don't forsake me.)
But then, after some time passed,
Her cell's gate opens up with a swing:
Ágnes stands before the law
Neatly, and well-behaving.
(Oh, merciful father, don't forsake me.)
She sets her dress and her scarf right,
Straightens her sleeve,
Combs her hair,
Lest a deranged impression she'll give.
(Oh, merciful father, don't forsake me.)
As she steps in, at the green table
Respectable elders sit in a row:
Watching her with pity
None of them rage or frown.
(Oh, merciful father, don't forsake me.)
"Ágnes, tell me, what have you done?
Sick is the sin, cruel the blame:
The man who commited the deed,
Your lover testifies against your name."
(Oh, merciful father, don't forsake me.)
"He'll be hanged tomorrow,
For killing your husband.
We'll have you live on bread and water
In your cell until your days end."
(Oh, merciful father, don't forsake me.)
Widow Ágnes looks around,
Trying get her thoughts sraight:
She heard everything clearly:
But still understood: till you go insane.
(Oh, merciful father, don't forsake me.)
What they said about her husband,
Did not make much sense at all.
She only knew that they will
Never again let her go home.
(Oh, merciful father, don't forsake me.)
And so she starts crying, sobbing,
Like the rain, her tears are shed
Like dewdrops falling from a lily,
Tiny pearls on the feathers of a swan.
(Oh, merciful father, don't forsake me.)
"Oh, you noble judges!
On me could you have mercy?
I have work to do at home,
I cannot stay here for an eternity."
(Oh, merciful father, don't forsake me.)
"A stain has been smeared on my blanket,
I have to wash the blood out!
I cannot live with that stain
Remaining on my canvas shroud."
(Oh, merciful father, don't forsake me.)
The wise elders share glances,
Upon hearing the words told.
There is silence, they do not speak,
Only with their eyes do they vote.
(Oh, merciful father, don't forsake me.)
"Go home, then, pitiful widow,
Clean your blanket if you fancy:
Go home, may God give you
Strength for that, and clemency."
(Oh, merciful father, don't forsake me.)
And widow Ágnes, at the river
Washes her blanket, on it there's no stain:
Her white blanket, her clean blanket
Is bathed by the running river again.
(Oh, merciful father, don't forsake me.)
For even though it's clean
On it not a spot of blood in sight:
She can still see the stain,
Just like that fateful night.
(Oh, merciful father, don't forsake me.)
From morning, till night,
In the water she is standing,
Her shadow shaken by the foam,
Her hair by the wind.
(Oh, merciful father, don't forsake me.)
In the middle of the night,
When the water sparks with the stars,
Ever clacking, she is there,
Her white mallet spottable from afar.
(Oh, merciful father, don't forsake me.)
And it goes like this for years,
Winter, summer, without pause.
Her fine face burns on the sun,
In the snow her blue, weak knees froze.
(Oh, merciful father, don't forsake me.)
Her dishevelled hair turns into grey,
Not nightly black anymore.
Her sweet, soft cheecks
By twisted wrinkles are disfigured.
(Oh, merciful father, don't forsake me.)
And widow Ágnes, at the river
Washes her ragged old cloth forever.
What remains of her white blanket
Is bathed by the running river.
(Oh, merciful father, don't forsake me.)
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