The ash grove how graceful, how plainly 'tis speaking,
The harp through it playing has language for me.

When over it's branches the sunlight is breaking
A host of kind faces is gazing at me.

The friends of my childhood again are before me
Each step wakes a memory as freely I roam.

With soft whispers laden it's leaves rustle o'er me.
The ash grove, the ash grove alone is my home.

My laughter is over my step loses lightness
Old countryside measures steal soft on my ear

I only remember the past and it's brightness;
The dear ones I long for again gather here. 

From ev'ry dark nook they press forward to meet me;
I lift up my eyes to the broad leafy dome,

And others are there looking downward to greet me;
The ash grove, the ash grove alone is my home. 

I learned this Welsh folk song, The Ash Grove, in school. It is a lovely melancholy song perfect for the end of summer. It has been playing in my mind a lot lately. My copy does not say who wrote it or when so I did a little research. There are four different translations and you can read them here. In each transaltion, slightly different beautiful images are described. To take so many words to turn it to English, it must be quite the song in the original Welsch.

There are so many lovely, nostalgic phrases in every translation! Streamlets meander. Greenwood to roam. Trembles the moonbeam. Glimpses of gladness. Life lay before us. Memories most tender. Mingled with sadness. Ye echoes, oh, tell me. And one line that is in the version I learned but not in the ones here: old countryside measures steal soft on my ear.

How much in the heart can so little awaken,
The wind in the leaves and the song of a bird. 

Though glimpses of gladness are mingled with sadness
With memories most tender I seek the ash grove. 

–Liz

For more musical musings, read this:

We Have Time