Amser

from by fernhill

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  • Compact Disc (CD)

    A double album, a long player, two sides; squeezed onto one CD.

    Inside. Outside. Byth (Ever. Never). Tock Tick.

    A collision between mechanical time, seasonal time, life time, generational time, cultural time, poetic time, no time < particles of eternal love...

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lyrics

Amser
Come to me, Mother of God, come down as the Old Year ends,
Frost-Mother, Mother of the stars and of the White, wave-beaten
sands.
I hear the sea wave fall like a knife, dividing exiles and friends.

Stay in your lighted Windows. Your terrified eyes accost
The colossal skull of the Outer Dark, the ribboned Mare of all
men lost,
That blind, hilarious image has frozen you stiff with frost.

Joy, health, love and peace. Be all here in this place
By your leave we will sing. Concerning our King

Our King is well dressed. In the silks of the best
In ribbons so rare. No King can compare

We have travelled many miles. Over hedges and stiles
In search of our King. Unto you we bring

Dryw bach ydy'r gŵr. Amdano ma stwr
Fe ddalwyd y gwalch. Fu neithiwr mor falch

Fe rhoid e dan len. Ar elor fraith wen
Rhubane bob rhiw. Sy'n clymu y dryw

Deffrwch ben teulu. Tyma bore flwyddyn newi
Wedi dod adre. O fewn y drwse
Drwse yngloion. Wedi ei paro
Drosto nos

O mistres fach fwyn. Gwrandewch ar ein cwyn
Plant ifinc i ni. Gyllingwch ni i'r ty
Gyllingwch ni'n gloi. Ynte tyma ni'n ffoi

Rhowch galennig yn galonnog. I blant bach sy' heb un geinog
Ceinog ne ddime. P'un a fynnwch chwithe
Ceinog sydd orau

Diod diod llond shwg ceinog. Yfed honno hyd at y gwilod
Diod diod llond shwg ddime. Sarnu honno am ein sodle

A wassail, a wassail throughout all this town
Our cup it is white and our ale it is brown
Our wassail is made of the good ale and cake
Some nutmeg and ginger, the best we could get.

Our wassail is made of an elderberry bough
And so, my good neighbours, we'll drink unto thou
Besides all others we have apples in store
Pray let us come in for it's cold by the door.

Midnight, Midnight, Midnight, Midnight. Hark at the hands of the clock.

We know by the moon. That we are not too soon
We know by the stars. That we are not too far
And we know by the sky. That we are not too high
And we know by the ground. That we are within sound

Wel dyma ni'n dwad
Gyfeillion diniwad
I ofyn am genad i ganu

Ma'r Mari Lwyd yma'n
Llawn sers a rhupana
Mae'n werth i rhoi gola i'w gweled

Y sguthan gou gou .Yn dodwy ond dou
Y dryw bach yn dodwy pedwar ar ddeg. A rheini'n lân ac yn deg


Time
Come to me, Mother of God, come down as the Old Year ends,
Frost-Mother, Mother of the stars and of the White, wave-beaten
sands.
I hear the sea wave fall like a knife, dividing exiles and friends.

Stay in your lighted Windows. Your terrified eyes accost
The colossal skull of the Outer Dark, the ribboned Mare of all
men lost,
That blind, hilarious image has frozen you stiff with frost.

Joy, health, love and peace. Be all here in this place
By your leave we will sing. Concerning our King

Our King is well dressed. In the silks of the best
In ribbons so rare. No King can compare

We have travelled many miles. Over hedges and stiles
In search of our King. Unto you we bring

The little wren is the man. About him there is a noise
The rogue was caught. That last night was so proud

He has been put under a sheet. On a white speckled bier
Ribbons of every colour. Are tying the wren

Wake up head of the family. Here is new year morning
Having come home. Inside the doors
The doors are locked. Prepared
Overnight

O gentle little mistress. Listen to our complaint
Young children are we. Let us in to the house
Let us in quickly. Or here we are fleeing

Give a calennig. Full heartedly
To little children who have not a penny

A penny or a halfpenny. Whichever you prefer
A penny is better

Drink drink a full penny jug. Drink that down to the bottom
Drink drink a full halfpenny jug. Spill that over our soles

A wassail, a wassail throughout all this town
Our cup it is white and our ale it is brown
Our wassail is made of the good ale and cake
Some nutmeg and ginger, the best we could get.

Our wassail is made of an elderberry bough
And so, my good neighbours, we'll drink unto thou
Besides all others we have apples in store
Pray let us come in for it's cold by the door.

Midnight, Midnight, Midnight, Midnight. Hark at the hands of the clock.

We know by the moon. That we are not too soon
We know by the stars. That we are not too far
And we know by the sky. That we are not too high
And we know by the ground. That we are within sound

Well here we come
Innocent friends
To ask for permission to sing

The grey mare is here
Full of stars and ribbons
It's worth putting a light to see her

The crooked crooked wood pigeon. Lays only two
The little wren lays fourteen. And they are good and fair

credits

from Amser, released May 19, 2014

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about

fernhill Swansea, UK

"Their music is rapturous and alive" Dafydd Goff, THE GUARDIAN

"Tameidie bach o gariad bythol" BBC RADIO CYMRU

“fernhill have been making beautiful music for years now, and i’ve loved every album. it’s folk music but not as we know it; julie’s voice is stunning”
huw stephens - bbc radio 1
... more

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