I am stretched on your grave...

Just by chance, I found this song while I was looking for materials for my class of the evening. I didn't know it, I had never heard about of the singer either. But it seemed to me a deeply moving, really beautiful song. And it's the story of a lost love. Since we're celebrating All Saints' Day next Monday, I thought this was the right time to play this song about loss. So here you have it. It is called "I am stretched on your grave," and this version is by Kate Rusby (see picture).

"I Am Stretched on Your Grave" is a translation of an anonymous 17th-century Irish poem titled "Táim sínte ar do thuama". It was translated into English several times, most notably by Frank O'Connor. It was put to music by musician Philip King in 1979.

While the translation and tune had both existed prior to its first recording as a whole, and in various versions of melody and lyric (and all or most likely possessing a strong similarity), the popular and current versions are influenced or rely heavily on the adapted version by King.
Since then it has been played on recordings and in performances by many professional, semi-professional, and amateur musicians, students, and hobbyists.

Enjoy!

I am stretched on your grave

And I'll lie here forever

If your hands were in mine

I'd be sure they would not sever

My apple tree, my brightness,

It's time we were together

For I smell of the Earth

And I'm worn by the weather.

When my family think

That I'm safely in my bed

Oh, from morn until night

I am stretched out at your head

Calling out unto the earth

With tears hot and wild

For the loss of a girl

That I loved as a child.

Do you remember the night

Oh, the night when we were lost

In the shade of the blackthorn

And the touch of the frost?

Oh, and thanks be to Jesus

We did all that was right

And your maidenhead still

Is your pillar of light.

Oh, the priests and the friars

They approach me in dread

Oh, for I love you still

Oh, my life, and you're dead

I still will be your shelter

Through rain and through storm

And with you in your cold grave

I cannot sleep warm.

So I am stretched on your grave

And I'll lie here forever

If your hands were in mine

I'd be sure they would not sever

My apple tree, my brightness,

It's time we were together

For I smell of the Earth

And I'm worn by the weather.

Here you have another version of the same song, by Sinead O'Connnor:

Which one do you like the most?