[00:00.000] 作词 : William Butler Yeats
[00:01.000] 作曲 : BRUNI, CARLA
[00:03.310]Come, let me sing into your ear;
[00:07.690]Those dancing days are gone,
[00:10.490]All that silk and satin gear;
[00:13.920]Crouch upon a stone,
[00:16.690]Wrapping that foul body up
[00:19.520]In as foul a rag:
[00:21.910]I carry the sun in a golden cup.
[00:25.840]The moon in a silver bag.
[00:27.820]
[00:28.100]I carry the sun in a golden cup.
[00:31.950]The moon in a silver bag.
[00:36.540]Curse as you may I sing it through;
[00:41.0]What matter if the knave
[00:43.450]That the most could pleasure you,
[00:46.950]The children that he gave,
[00:49.880]Are somewhere sleeping like a top
[00:53.90]Under a marble flag?
[00:55.10]I carry the sun in a golden cup.
[00:59.110]The moon in a silver bag.
[01:01.200]I carry the sun in a golden cup.
[01:05.110]The moon in a silver bag.
[01:06.670]
[01:08.110]
[01:09.870]Come, let me sing into your ear,
[01:13.230]I thought it out this very day.
[01:16.390]All that silk and satin gear;
[01:18.740]A man may put pretence away who leans upon a stick,
[01:22.850]May sing, and sing until he drop,
[01:26.400]Whether to maid or hag:
[01:28.390]I carry the sun in a golden cup,
[01:32.360]The moon in a silver bag.
[01:34.460]I carry the sun in a golden cup,
[01:38.490]The moon in a silver bag.
[01:45.990]
[01:47.470]
[02:04.310]Come, let me sing into your ear;
[02:08.870]Those dancing days are gone,
[02:16.940]All that silk and satin gear;
[02:21.130]Crouch upon a stone,
[02:29.20]Wrapping that foul body up
[02:33.40]In as foul a rag:
[02:41.130]I carry the sun in a golden cup.
[02:45.150]The moon in a silver bag.
[02:48.110]
[02:55.630]
[03:34.350]
[03:36.550]【end】

作词 : William Butler Yeats
作曲 : BRUNI, CARLA
Come, let me sing into your ear;
Those dancing days are gone,
All that silk and satin gear;
Crouch upon a stone,
Wrapping that foul body up
In as foul a rag:
I carry the sun in a golden cup.
The moon in a silver bag.
I carry the sun in a golden cup.
The moon in a silver bag.
Curse as you may I sing it through;
What matter if the knave
That the most could pleasure you,
The children that he gave,
Are somewhere sleeping like a top
Under a marble flag?
I carry the sun in a golden cup.
The moon in a silver bag.
I carry the sun in a golden cup.
The moon in a silver bag.

Come, let me sing into your ear,
I thought it out this very day.
All that silk and satin gear;
A man may put pretence away who leans upon a stick,
May sing, and sing until he drop,
Whether to maid or hag:
I carry the sun in a golden cup,
The moon in a silver bag.
I carry the sun in a golden cup,
The moon in a silver bag.

Come, let me sing into your ear;
Those dancing days are gone,
All that silk and satin gear;
Crouch upon a stone,
Wrapping that foul body up
In as foul a rag:
I carry the sun in a golden cup.
The moon in a silver bag.

【end】