“I Am Stretched On Your Grave” is an English translation of an anonymous 17th Century Irish poem called, “Táim sínte ar do thuama” This version of the translation is by Irish author Frank O’Connor. The music version was published in 1979 by Irish musician Phillip King and recorded by his band, Scullion.
This poem drips in sadness and grief. It paints an eerie picture as good as any classic gothic horror classic. It is the perfect poem for a windy, cold, and cloudy Halloween day in Kansas. Many Irish bands besides Scullion have recorded versions of this song. My favorite is the Sinead O’Connor version from her 1990 album, I Do Not Want What I Haven’t Got.
Happy Halloween! Be safe and try to keep warm. And seriously, doesn’t “Táim sínte ar do thuama” just sound frighteningly awesome?
I Am Stretched On Your Grave
I am stretched on your grave
And will lie there forever
If your hands were in mine
I’d be sure we’d 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 safe in my bed
From night until morning
I am stretched at your head
Calling out to the air
With tears hot and wild
My grief for the girl
That I loved as a child
Do you remember
The night 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 still love you
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’m stretched on your grave
And will lie there forever
If your hands were in mine
I’d be sure we’d 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
Written by F. O’Connor, P. King • Copyright © BMG Rights Management US, LLC
THE COACH HAYS 