"I Am Stretched on Your Grave" is a translation of an anonymous 17th-century Irish poem titled "Táim sínte ar do thuama".Translated into English several times, it was put to music by musician Philip King in 1979
lyrics
I am stretched on your grave
And will lie here forever
If your hands were in mine
I’d be sure we would not sever
My apple tree my brightness
It’s time we were together
For I smell of the earth
And am worn by the weather
When my family thinks
That I’m safely in my bed
From night until morn
I am stretched at your head
Calling out into the air
With tears hot and wild
For the loss of the girl
That I loved as a child
Do you remember that night
That night when we were lost
In the shade of the blackthorn
And the chill of the frost
Thanks be to Jesus
We did what was right
And your maiden head still
Is your pillar of light
The priests and the friars
Approach me in dread
Because I love you still
My love and you’re dead
I still would 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 lie here forever
If your hands were in mine
I’d be sure we would not sever
My apple tree my brightness
It’s time we were together
For I smell of the earth
And am worn by the weather
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