by Enda Reilly

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-Currently Digital Release Only -

Selected Poems by W. B. Yeats (1865-1939) set to music by Enda Reilly including some translations to Irish by Gabriel Rosenstock.

I hope you'll enjoy listening to these new settings of Yeats. I felt compelled to put this collection together as I've been performing some of his poems for years.

Some will note the omission of September 1913 and The Lake Isle Of Inishfree. - Both are available on the Arise And Go Cd with Stephen James Smith.


released December 21, 2015

All lyrics by W.B. Yeats. Translations of A Drinking Song/Amhrán Na Póite, Epitaph, The Everlasting Voices/Na Guthanna Síoraí, Down By The Salley Gardens/Thíos Cois Garraithe Na Saillí and A Cradle Song/Seoithín Seó to Irish/Gaelic by Gabriel Rosenstock.

All music composed by Enda Reilly, except Down By The Salley Gardens; Traditional Arrangement by Enda Reilly.
Performed, Recorded, Mixed and Mastered by Enda Reilly

Some of these Whorls were created for a poetic play called Guthanna Binne Síoraí so thanks goes to Tristan Rosenstock, Cathal Quinn, Gabriel Rosenstock, Clodagh Nic Gabhann, Megan Kennedy and the rest of the crew.

Thanks also to Stephen James Smith and Séamus Barra ó Suilleabháin and Cathal with whom I've performed some of these pieces on various occasions. And thanks to my wife for her support.




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Enda Reilly Ireland

Dublin singer-songwriter Enda Reilly writes in both English and Irish, and his Irish songs can be heard regularly on RTÉ Radio na Gaeltachta.
Enda's latest release is Whorls, a selection of WB Yeats' poetry. For full bio check out endareilly.com thanks.
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Track Name: The Wild Swans At Coole

The trees are in their autumn beauty,
The woodland paths are dry,
Under the October twilight the water
Mirrors a still sky;
Upon the brimming water among the stones
Are nine-and-fifty swans.

The nineteenth autumn has come upon me
Since I first made my count;
I saw, before I had well finished,
All suddenly mount
And scatter wheeling in great broken rings
Upon their clamorous wings.

I have looked upon those brilliant creatures,
And now my heart is sore.
All's changed since I, hearing at twilight,
The first time on this shore,
The bell-beat of their wings above my head,
Trod with a lighter tread.

Unwearied still, lover by lover,
They paddle in the cold
Companionable streams or climb the air;
Their hearts have not grown old;
Passion or conquest, wander where they will,
Attend upon them still.

But now they drift on the still water,
Mysterious, beautiful;
Among what rushes will they build,
By what lake's edge or pool
Delight men's eyes when I awake some day
To find they have flown away?
Track Name: A Drinking Song/Amhrán Na Póite

Wine comes in at the mouth
And love comes in at the eye;
That’s all we shall know for truth
Before we grow old and die.
I lift the glass to my mouth,
I look at you, and I sigh.

Sa bhéal isteach a thagann fíon
Sa tsúil isteach an grá;
Ní heol dúinn fírinne tharais sin
Roimh chríonna dúinn, roimh bhás,
Cuirim an ghloine lem bhéal,
Féachaim ort le hosna chléibh
Track Name: Epitaph
EPITAPH (From Under Benbulben)
Cast a cold eye
On life, on death.
Horseman, pass by!

Caith súil fhuar
ar an mbeatha, ar an mbás.
A eachaí, gluais leat.
Track Name: The Everlasting Voices/Na Guthanna Síoraí

O sweet everlasting Voices, be still;
Go to the guards of the heavenly fold
And bid them wander obeying your will,
Flame under flame, till Time be no more;
Have you not heard that our hearts are old,
That you call in birds, in wind on the hill,
In shaken boughs, in tide on the shore?
O sweet everlasting Voices, be still.

A ghuthanna binne síoraí bígí ciúin
Imigí chuig gardaí bhanrach Neimhe
Is tathantaigh orthu dul ag fánaíocht de réir bhur dtola
Lasair faoi lasair go dtí nach ann don am níos mó,
Nár chuala sibh gur chríon ár gcroí
Is go nglaoon sibh san éanlaith sa ghaoth ar an gcnoc
Sa ghéag creathánach sa taoide ar an trá
A ghuthanna binne síoraí ciúnas
Track Name: He Wishes For The Cloths Of Heaven

Had I the heavens' embroidered cloths,
Enwrought with golden and silver light,
The blue and the dim and the dark cloths
Of night and light and the half-light,
I would spread the cloths under your feet:
But I, being poor, have only my dreams;
I have spread my dreams under your feet;
Tread softly because you tread on my dreams.
Track Name: A Cradle Song/Seoithín Seó

The angels are stooping
Above your bed;
They weary of trooping
With the whimpering dead.

Is crom iad na haingil
Os cionn do leapa;
Tuirseach dá gcoisíocht
Is de ghéar-gheoin na marbh.

God's laughing in Heaven
To see you so good;
The Sailing Seven
Are gay with His mood.

An Dúileamh ag gáire
Ar fheiceáil do mhéine Dó
An Seachtar ag Seoladh
Go haerach gan anró.

I sigh that kiss you,
For I must own
That I shall miss you
When you have grown.

Seo póigín is osna duit!
Ní mór dom a rá
Go mbraithfidh mé uaim thú,
A stór, is tú ag fás.
Track Name: Men Improve With The Years
I am worn out with dreams;
A weather-worn, marble triton
Among the streams;
And all day long I look
Upon this lady's beauty
As though I had found in a book
A pictured beauty,
Pleased to have filled the eyes
Or the discerning ears,
Delighted to be but wise,
For men improve with the years;
And yet, and yet,
Is this my dream, or the truth?
O would that we had met
When I had my burning youth!
But I grow old among dreams,
A weather-worn, marble triton
Among the streams.
Track Name: Down By The Salley Gardens/Thíos Cois Garraithe Na Saillí
Down by the salley gardens my love and I did meet;
She passed the salley gardens with little snow-white feet.
She bid me take love easy, as the leaves grow on the tree;
But I, being young and foolish, with her would not agree.

Thíos cois gharraithe na sailí dúinn mé féin is mo mhíle grá
Ghabh sí thar gharraithe na sailí is a dhá coisín chomh bán.
Bog breá, ar sí, a stóirín, mar dhuilleoga ag teacht ar an gcrann
Ach bhíos-sa baoth is díomhaoin, is ar chiall do bhí mé gann.

In a field by the river my love and I did stand,
And on my leaning shoulder she laid her snow-white hand.
She bid me take life easy, as the grass grows on the weirs;
But I was young and foolish, and now am full of tears.

I ngort cois na habhann dúinn, mé féin is grá mo chléibh
Leag sí lámh ar ghualainn liom, lámh álainn lonrach ghlé.
Breá bog, ar sí, a stóirín, mar a éiríonn an chora glas
Ach bhíos-sa baoth is díomhaoin, féach na deora liom go fras.
Track Name: The Mask

"PUT off that mask of burning gold
With emerald eyes."
"O no, my dear, you make so bold
To find if hearts be wild and wise,
And yet not cold."

"I would but find what's there to find,
Love or deceit."
"It was the mask engaged your mind,
And after set your heart to beat,
Not what's behind."

"But lest you are my enemy,
I must enquire."
"O no, my dear, let all that be;
What matter, so there is but fire
In you, in me?"
Track Name: Sweet Dancer

The girl goes dancing there
On the leaf-sown, new-mown, smooth
Grass plot of the garden;
Escaped from bitter youth,
Escaped out of her crowd,
Or out of her black cloud.
Ah, dancer, ah, sweet dancer!

If strange men come from the house
To lead her away, do not say
That she is happy being crazy;
Lead them gently astray;
Let her finish her dance,
Let her finish her dance.
Ah, dancer, ah, sweet dancer!
Track Name: The Player Queen
THE PLAYER QUEEN (Song from an Unfinished Play)

My mother dandled me and sang,
‘How young it is, how young!'
And made a golden cradle
That on a willow swung.

‘He went away,' my mother sang,
‘When I was brought to bed,'
And all the while her needle pulled
The gold and silver thread.

She pulled the thread and bit the thread
And made a golden gown,
And wept because she had dreamt that I
Was born to wear a crown.

‘When she was got,' my mother sang,
‘I heard a sea-mew cry,
And saw a flake of the yellow foam
That dropped upon my thigh.'

How therefore could she help but braid
The gold into my hair,
And dream that I should carry
The golden top of care?
Track Name: The Stolen Child

Where dips the rocky highland
Of Sleuth Wood in the lake,
There lies a leafy island
Where flapping herons wake
The drowsy water-rats;
There we've hid our faery vats,
Full of berries
And of reddest stolen cherries.
Come away, O human child!
To the waters and the wild
With a faery, hand in hand,
For the world's more full of weeping than you can

Where the wave of moonlight glosses
The dim grey sands with light,
Far off by furthest Rosses
We foot it all the night,
Weaving olden dances,
Mingling hands and mingling glances
Till the moon has taken flight;
To and fro we leap
And chase the frothy bubbles,
While the world is full of troubles
And is anxious in its sleep.
Come away, O human child!
To the waters and the wild
With a faery, hand in hand,
For the world's more full of weeping than you can

Where the wandering water gushes
From the hills above Glen-Car,.
In pools among the rushes
That scarce could bathe a star,
We seek for slumbering trout
And whispering in their ears
Give them unquiet dreams;
Leaning softly out
From ferns that drop their tears
Over the young streams.
Come away, O human child!
To to waters and the wild
With a faery, hand in hand,
For to world's more full of weeping than you can

Away with us he's going,
The solemn-eyed:
He'll hear no more the lowing
Of the calves on the warm hillside
Or the kettle on the hob
Sing peace into his breast,
Or see the brown mice bob
Round and round the oatmeal-chest.
For be comes, the human child,
To the waters and the wild
With a faery, hand in hand,
from a world more full of weeping than you can
Track Name: When You Are Old
When you are old and grey and full of sleep,
And nodding by the fire, take down this book,
And slowly read, and dream of the soft look
Your eyes had once, and of their shadows deep;

How many loved your moments of glad grace,
And loved your beauty with love false or true,
But one man loved the pilgrim soul in you,
And loved the sorrows of your changing face;

And bending down beside the glowing bars,
Murmur, a little sadly, how Love fled
And paced upon the mountains overhead
And hid his face amid a crowd of stars.
Track Name: Easter 1916

I have met them at close of day
Coming with vivid faces
From counter or desk among grey
Eighteenth-century houses.
I have passed with a nod of the head
Or polite meaningless words,
Or have lingered awhile and said
Polite meaningless words,
And thought before I had done
Of a mocking tale or a gibe
To please a companion
Around the fire at the club,
Being certain that they and I
But lived where motley is worn:
All changed, changed utterly:
A terrible beauty is born.

That woman’s days were spent
In ignorant good-will,
Her nights in argument
Until her voice grew shrill.
What voice more sweet than hers
When, young and beautiful,
She rode to harriers?
This man had kept a school
And rode our wingèd horse;
This other his helper and friend
Was coming into his force;
He might have won fame in the end,
So sensitive his nature seemed,
So daring and sweet his thought.
This other man I had dreamed
A drunken, vainglorious lout.
He had done most bitter wrong
To some who are near my heart,
Yet I number him in the song;
He, too, has resigned his part
In the casual comedy;
He, too, has been changed in his turn,
Transformed utterly:
A terrible beauty is born.

Hearts with one purpose alone
Through summer and winter seem
Enchanted to a stone
To trouble the living stream.
The horse that comes from the road,
The rider, the birds that range
From cloud to tumbling cloud,
Minute by minute they change;
A shadow of cloud on the stream
Changes minute by minute;
A horse-hoof slides on the brim,
And a horse plashes within it;
The long-legged moor-hens dive,
And hens to moor-cocks call;
Minute by minute they live;
The stone’s in the midst of all.

Too long a sacrifice
Can make a stone of the heart.
O when may it suffice?
That is Heaven’s part, our part
To murmur name upon name,
As a mother names her child
When sleep at last has come
On limbs that had run wild.
What is it but nightfall?
No, no, not night but death;
Was it needless death after all?
For England may keep faith
For all that is done and said.
We know their dream; enough
To know they dreamed and are dead;
And what if excess of love
Bewildered them till they died?
I write it out in a verse —
MacDonagh and MacBride
And Connolly and Pearse
Now and in time to be,
Wherever green is worn,
Are changed, changed utterly:
A terrible beauty is born.
Track Name: Crazy Jane Reproved
I care not what the sailors say:
All those dreadful thunder-stones,
All that storm that blots the day
Can but show that Heaven yawns;
Great Europa played the fool
That changed a lover for a bull.
Fol de rol, fol de rol.

To round that shell's elaborate whorl,
Adorning every secret track
With the delicate mother-of-pearl,
Made the joints of Heaven crack:
So never hang your heart upon
A roaring, ranting journeyman.
Fol de rol, fol de rol.