I have been given permission

to post the following, from my favourite ever recording, A Celtic Tale, by Jeff and Mychael Danna. The words to this song were written by John Stuart Dick, who emailed me personally with enthusiatic permission!

A Celtic Tale is music which describes the legend of Deirdre - "Her hair was crimson and her body was honey coloured like a golden orchid. Her cheeks and lips and fingertips coloured by faint carmine. To gaze upon her was to find one's gaze slipping and gliding, grasping for a hold on some part of her that was not in balance with the remainder." (from the translation of the Tale, done by JS Dick as well)

The Tale is much longer, much sadder, much more convoluted.

The un-narrated version is my sleep music.

And now, the Lament, from the story of Deidre:

Lament

In skies of frozen snow
Where winds of sadness roam
Red sun's burning low
You were my home
Where I would go
In green fields
Now unknown
Your name upon
The standing stone
Love invites
One last call
When death from life
Begins to fall
The streams no longer go
To tides of distant seas
Love won't grow old
Without memories
Your arms my home
Where I would sleep
In green fields
Now unknown
Your name upon
The standing stone
Love invites
One last call
When death from life
Begins to fall
And my tears
Now unfold
How can I now
Alone grow old
Dusty Stars
Shed their lights
When death from life
Slips silently to the night.

to end; a quote, borrowed from a friend:

"There is no music more beautiful than the song of the moment, barely heard."