Long, long ago in the woods of Gortnamona,
I thought the birds were singing in the blackthorn tree;
But oh, it was my heart that was ringing, ringing, ringing,
With the joy that you were bringing, oh my love, to me
Long, long ago in the woods of Gortnamona,
I thought the wind was sighing round the blackthorn tree;
But oh, it was the banshee that was crying, crying, crying,
And I knew my love was dying far across the sea.
Now if you go through the woods of Gortnamona,
You hear the raindrops creeping through the blackthorn tree;
But oh, it is the tears I am weeping, weeping, weeping,
For the loved one that is sleeping far away from me.
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Gortnamona
From guest Michael (contact)
You can hear a beautiful version by Brendan O'Dowda: CD "The immortal Percy French". Available from http://www.irishmusicmail.com/ -
This is something I would love to hear performed. The repetition works. I'm laughing--to me it is a tamer version of the old country and western songs that were always about lost love and woe.
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Gortnamona
The poem has been set to music. Slim Whitman, the country singer, did a haunting recording of it in 1963. Ann Murray also has recorded it. Both recordings may still be in print.
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Very lyrical, lovely flow, sweet sad poem, thanks for telling me about it Matti.
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