Harp Song of the Dane Women

歌詞

What is a woman that you forsake her And the hearthfire, and the home-acre To go with the old, grey widow-maker? She has no strong white arms to fold you But the ten-times-fingering weed to hold you Down in the dark where the tide has rolled you. She has no house to lay a guest in But one chill bed for all to rest in That the pale suns and the stray 'bergs rest in. Yet when the signs of summer quicken And the ice breaks, and the birch-buds thicken, Yearly you turn from our side, and sicken. Sicken again for the shouts and the slaughters You steal away to the lapping waters And look to your ship in her winter quarters. You forget our mirth, our talk at the tables, The kine in the shed and the horse in the stables, [cows] To pitch her sides and go over the cables. Then you ride out where the storm clouds swallow, The sound of your oar-blades, falling hollow, Is all we have left for the months to follow. Ah, what is woman, that you forsake her And the hearthfire, and the home-acre To go with the old, grey widow-maker?