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from the top of the flight
of the wide, white stairs
through the rest of my life
do you wait for me there?
there's a bell in my ears
there's a wide white roar
drop a bell down the stairs
hear it fall forevermore
drop a bell off of the dock
blot it out in the sea
drowning mute as a rock;
sounding mutiny
there's a light in the wings, hits this system of strings
from the side while they swing;
see the wires, the wires, the wires
and the articulation
in our elbows and knees
makes us buckle as we couple in endless increase
as the audience admires
and the little white dove
made with love, made with love:
made with glue, and a glove, and some pliers
swings a low sickle arc
from its perch in the dark:
settle down
settle down my desire
and the moment I slept I was swept up in a terrible tremor
though no longer bereft, how I shook!
and I couldn't remember
then the furthermost shake drove a murdering stake in
and cleft me right down through my center
and I shouldn't say so, but I know that it was then, or never
push me back into a tree
bind my buttons with salt
fill my long ears with bees
praying: please, please, please
love, you ought not!
no you ought not!
then the system of strings tugs on the tip of my wings
(cut from cardboard and old magazines)
makes me warble and rise like a sparrow
and in the place where I stood, there is a circle of wood
a cord or two, which you chop and you stack in your barrow
it is terribly good to carry water and chop wood
streaked with soot, heavy booted and wild-eyed
as I crash through the rafters
and the ropes and pulleys trail after
and the holiest belfry burns sky-high
then the slow lip of fire moves across the prairie with precision
while, somewhere, with your pliers and glue you make your first incision
and in a moment of almost-unbearable vision
doubled over with the hunger of lions
"hold me close," cooed the dove
who was stuffed now with sawdust and diamonds
I wanted to say: why the long face?
sparrow, perch and play songs of long face
burro, buck and bray songs of long face!
sing: I will swallow your sadness and eat your cold clay
just to lift your long face
and though it may be madness, I will take to the grave
your precious longface
and though our bones they may break, and our souls separate
- why the long face?
and though our bodies recoil from the grip of the soil
- why the long face?
in the trough of the waves
which are pawing like dogs
pitch we, pale-faced and grave
as I write in my log
then I hear a noise from the hull
seven days out to sea
and it is the damnable bell!
and it tolls - well, I believe, that it tolls - for me!
it tolls for me!
though my wrists and my waist seemed so easy to break
still, my dear, I would have walked you to the very edge of the water
and they will recognise all the lines of your face
in the face of the daughter of the daughter of my daughter
darling, we will be fine, but what was yours and mine
appears to be a sandcastle that the gibbering wave takes
but if it's all just the same, then will you say my name:
say my name in the morning, so I know when the wave breaks?
I wasn't born of a whistle or milked from a thistle at twilight
no, I was all horns and thorns, sprung out fully formed, knock-kneed and upright
so: enough of this terror
we deserve to know light
and grow evermore lighter and lighter
you would have seen me through
but I could not undo that desire
oh, desire...
from the top of the flight
of the wide, white stairs
through the rest of my life
do you wait for me there?
of the wide, white stairs
through the rest of my life
do you wait for me there?
there's a bell in my ears
there's a wide white roar
drop a bell down the stairs
hear it fall forevermore
drop a bell off of the dock
blot it out in the sea
drowning mute as a rock;
sounding mutiny
there's a light in the wings, hits this system of strings
from the side while they swing;
see the wires, the wires, the wires
and the articulation
in our elbows and knees
makes us buckle as we couple in endless increase
as the audience admires
and the little white dove
made with love, made with love:
made with glue, and a glove, and some pliers
swings a low sickle arc
from its perch in the dark:
settle down
settle down my desire
and the moment I slept I was swept up in a terrible tremor
though no longer bereft, how I shook!
and I couldn't remember
then the furthermost shake drove a murdering stake in
and cleft me right down through my center
and I shouldn't say so, but I know that it was then, or never
push me back into a tree
bind my buttons with salt
fill my long ears with bees
praying: please, please, please
love, you ought not!
no you ought not!
then the system of strings tugs on the tip of my wings
(cut from cardboard and old magazines)
makes me warble and rise like a sparrow
and in the place where I stood, there is a circle of wood
a cord or two, which you chop and you stack in your barrow
it is terribly good to carry water and chop wood
streaked with soot, heavy booted and wild-eyed
as I crash through the rafters
and the ropes and pulleys trail after
and the holiest belfry burns sky-high
then the slow lip of fire moves across the prairie with precision
while, somewhere, with your pliers and glue you make your first incision
and in a moment of almost-unbearable vision
doubled over with the hunger of lions
"hold me close," cooed the dove
who was stuffed now with sawdust and diamonds
I wanted to say: why the long face?
sparrow, perch and play songs of long face
burro, buck and bray songs of long face!
sing: I will swallow your sadness and eat your cold clay
just to lift your long face
and though it may be madness, I will take to the grave
your precious longface
and though our bones they may break, and our souls separate
- why the long face?
and though our bodies recoil from the grip of the soil
- why the long face?
in the trough of the waves
which are pawing like dogs
pitch we, pale-faced and grave
as I write in my log
then I hear a noise from the hull
seven days out to sea
and it is the damnable bell!
and it tolls - well, I believe, that it tolls - for me!
it tolls for me!
though my wrists and my waist seemed so easy to break
still, my dear, I would have walked you to the very edge of the water
and they will recognise all the lines of your face
in the face of the daughter of the daughter of my daughter
darling, we will be fine, but what was yours and mine
appears to be a sandcastle that the gibbering wave takes
but if it's all just the same, then will you say my name:
say my name in the morning, so I know when the wave breaks?
I wasn't born of a whistle or milked from a thistle at twilight
no, I was all horns and thorns, sprung out fully formed, knock-kneed and upright
so: enough of this terror
we deserve to know light
and grow evermore lighter and lighter
you would have seen me through
but I could not undo that desire
oh, desire...
from the top of the flight
of the wide, white stairs
through the rest of my life
do you wait for me there?
Lyrics submitted by amina
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The song starts out with someone seemingly philosophizing about eternity- I believe this is the wife, she asks if her lover will wait for her at the door to eternity so to speak. There is no mention of setting for most of the work, this adds a dream-like quality to the piece. The bell symbolizes the memory of the loved ones that left us, thus when the bell is dropped from the “top of the wide, white stairs” it falls forever and echoes not just throughout our remaining days, but forever as it passes from generation to generation.
After the death of a loved one we're left with memories, and like a bell falling down a staircase they never fade from our lives completely. But if someone leaves on a ship and is lost in a storm many times they are never seen or heard from again, this was especially true a hundred years ago or more. Their family and friends would be left wondering whether their loved one's ship crashed in a foreign land and they didn't have a way back, if they are slowly dying on a deserted island, or if they died before anyone even realized that something went wrong. The memory of the sailor is muted by the waves, by the possibility that they aren't gone forever. Not to say that the memory of them is forgotten, because it would still be there despite the lack of closure, but the most powerful feeling associated with the sailor would be the hope that they're still alive somewhere out there.
The sailor's wife was so deep in thought, and grief, at the start of the poem that she was in a listless, trance-like state as she fell asleep. “The moment I slept I was swept up in a terrible tremor, though no longer bereft, how I shook, and I couldn't remember.” From these lines I gather that she began to dream, and all of the lines up until “in the trough of the waves which are pawing like dogs” are taken from her dream. The dream itself is made up of fractionated memories that have been filled with new symbolic meaning. The point of view seems to shift to the sailor aboard his vessel with the line “In the trough of the waves which are pawing like dogs,” but this could have been the wife dreaming of the sailor's fate.
I guess what I take from it is certainly the idea of eternity and having someone to spend it with. Will you wait for me after death? I will try to make you happy in life or after life, always loving you. A beautiful idea.
That said, I understand: this is a site made for discussing the meanings of song lyrics, and you're all just giving it your best college try. Expressing what it means to you, or a fragment thereof. It just seems odd, like someone describing in powerful beauty a dream they just woke from, and then a bunch of people go online and talk about what that person's dream means to them, what they think the symbols meant, analyzing folklore, picking apart the words of description. This I think is a bird we cannot capture in a cage of words.
Your opinion, like all opinions on this thread, is valuable and much appreciated. However, this "college try" is precisely that; it's what we do in college and it's been going on for centuries. We analyse, critique, describe and generally come to more deeply understand literature through this thing called discourse. This bird you speak so metaphorically of, the one you don't want us to cage with words? It is already comprised of words. It's a poem. So don't be alarmed, here on this site, developed specifically for people to discuss and analyse the written word, if people discuss and analyse the written word.
sincerely,
me
" from the top of the flight (possibly going to heaven which is typically upwards or into the sky)
of the wide, white stairs (white stairs, or stairs in general, are often associated with heaven. Again stairs are associated with going upwards)
through the rest of my life
do you wait for me there? (the spirit of the aborted child) "
" there's a bell in my ears (the bell is symbolic of motherhood)
there's a wide white roar
drop a bell down the stairs (the speaker is trying to disregard the call of motherhood)
hear it fall forevermore (the speaker realizes that it is something that will always be calling her) "
" drop a bell off of the dock
blot it out in the sea (the speaker is trying to quiet the call of motherhood)
drowning mute as a rock;
sounding mutiny (possibly the speaker was rebelling against the wishes of the father of the aborted child who could have wanted her to maintain the pregnancy, but instead she pushed his wishes and her own feelings aside re: drowning mute as a rock) "
" and the articulation
in our elbows and knees
makes us buckle as we couple in endless increase (the act of conceiving)
as the audience admires "
" and the little white dove (the aborted child, a white dove is symbolic of innocence and peace)
made with love, made with love:
made with glue, and a glove, and some pliers (it was not an intentional pregnancy, though they were in love)
" swings a low sickle arc (a sickle is associated with wheat which is a symbol of fertility)
from its perch in the dark: (the darkness symbolizes, again, that it was not intentional)
settle down
settle down my desire (the speaker is referring to her/their impatient sexual desire that most likely resulted in the couple not using protection)
" and the moment I slept I was swept up in a terrible tremor
though no longer bereft, how I shook!
and I couldn't remember (when getting an abortion you are sedated and often times do not remember the procedure. The speaker using the word bereft in her own terms could mean that she felt the child would have been a burden) "
" then the furthermost shake drove a murthering stake in (the speaker uses the word murthering, which is now obsolete. Murthering means murdering. The murthering stake is supposed to be the tool they use in an abortion. The speaker choosing the word murthering and not murdering shows that her feelings were hidden and private)
and cleft me right down through my center (her center is her womb)
and I shouldn't say so, but I know that it was then, or never (she is referring to the act of the abortion) "
" push me back into a tree
bind my buttons with salt
fill my long ears with bees
praying: please, please, please
love, you ought not!
no you ought not! (she is asking the father of the aborted child to help her deal with her decision, but she feels that he shouldn't because she hurt him) "
" then the system of strings tugs on the tip of my wings
(cut from cardboard and old magazines)
makes me warble and rise like a sparrow
and in the place where I stood, there is a circle of wood
a cord or two, which you chop and you stack in your barrow
it is terribly good to carry water and chop wood
streaked with soot, heavy booted and wild-eyed
as I crash through the rafters
and the ropes and pulleys trail after
and the holiest belfry burns sky-high
then the slow lip of fire moves across the prairie with precision
while, somewhere, with your pliers and glue you make your first incision
and in a moment of almost-unbearable vision
doubled over with the hunger of lions
"hold me close," cooed the dove
who was stuffed now with sawdust and diamonds
I wanted to say: why the long face?
sparrow, perch and play songs of long face
burro, buck and bray songs of long face!
sing: I will swallow your sadness and eat your cold clay
just to lift your long face
and though it may be madness, I will take to the grave
your precious longface
and though our bones they may break, and our souls separate
- why the long face?
and though our bodies recoil from the grip of the soil
- why the long face?
in the trough of the waves
which are pawing like dogs
pitch we, pale-faced and grave
as I write in my log (All of these lines are referring to her relationship with the father of the child and her harp and writing music. He is angry with her and doesn't want her to heal. She is using music to help her and he does not approve and though it hurts her she wants to put aside her pain to help him with his) "
" then I hear a noise from the hull (the hull is referring to herself)
seven days out to sea
and it is the damnable bell! (she realizes that she wants to be a mother) "
" and it tolls - well, I believe, that it tolls - for me!
it tolls for me! (she realizes motherhood is calling her) "
" though my wrists and my waist seemed so easy to break
still, my dear, I would have walked you to the very edge of the water (though she is in pain from her decision, she wouldn't take it back)
and they will recognise all the lines of your face
in the face of the daughter of the daughter of my daughter (I think she is referring to the aborted child. She could be referring to the father.) "
" darling, we will be fine, but what was yours and mine (referring to the father)
appears to be a sandcastle that the gibbering wave takes (the sandcastle is the child, fragile and delicate, and the gibbering wave is death)
but if it's all just the same, then will you say my name:
say my name in the morning, so I know when the wave breaks? (abortion is risky and you can die. She is asking the father to wake her up so she knows that she is still alive) "
" I wasn't born of a whistle or milked from a thistle at twilight (this line to me is very mocking, especially when sung. She is saying that she's not perfect and not incapable of doing harm)
no, I was all horns and thorns, sprung out fully formed, knock-kneed and upright (she is describing herself as something capable of killing)
so: enough of this terror
we deserve to know light
and grow evermore lighter and lighter (she is telling the father of the child that they need to stop being so upset, they deserve to move on and feel happiness)
you would have seen me through
but I could not undo that desire (the father of the child would have stayed with her through her pregnancy, but she had to abort the child for her own personal reasons) "
Joanna has said that Ys was about several traumatic experiences in her life. She also said that every song was carefully made with incredible precision. This song is so intimate, with the choice of words (some obsolete) and how it is just her and the harp. There are no mistakes; every little thing is intentional so, to me, that can't be ignored with this song. A lot of people think it's about her and a friend or her and her harp, but I think once you really think about it it is definitely about the effects the end of a pregnancy had on her relationship with herself, the father of the child, and with her music.
sparrow, perch and play songs of long face
burro, buck and bray songs of long face!
sing: I will swallow your sadness and eat your cold clay
just to lift your long face
and though it may be madness, I will take to the grave
your precious longface
and though our bones they may break, and our souls separate
- why the long face?
and though our bodies recoil from the grip of the soil
- why the long face?
I feel like in this part, Joanna is talking about someone close to her who died unhappy (hence the "long face"). She wishes she could bring them back to life, by eating the "cold clay" they're buried under, just to make them feel better.
I've read that one of her best friends passed away while she was on tour. Apparently, Cosmia is about them, and as all of the lyrics on Ys are connected in one way or another, maybe this is another connection.
darling, we will be fine, but what was yours and mine
appears to be a sandcastle that the gibbering wave takes
I've always thought of this part as the sandcastle being their love or relationship that was destroyed by the wave which would represent something that brought them apart, like a major outside problem or just their own relationship that doesn't work, etc.
But just now as I read it again, I got this idea..
The sandcastle is their life, and the gibbering wave is death.
sandcastles are fragile structures, like life itself, that can easily crumble down. The sand represents no only what the sandcastle (life) is made of, but the time we have to live (the sand inside a sand clock). You can see a wave coming (you know death will eventually come) and once it comes it takes that fragile sandcastle (life) and all the sand crumbles down; you have to build a new one (flip the clock again) and so on.
Ahh I'm tired and don't know how to explain this. Hope it makes some sense..
Either way, I think both work. Love is a fragile "structure" just like life, so the sandcastle could represent either one of those. And just as you know death will come, you can also sometimes see problems coming and know that they will eventually destroy that life or relationship.
Anyways, this is one of the most beautiful songs I have ever heard.
At the beginning of the song she asks her lost child if she will be waiting in heaven (“wide white stairs”) when she gets there (“Through the rest of my life, do you wait for me there?”). It’s a powerful opening and sets the stage for the state she’s in.
Her mind is neither calm nor clear after this loss. Her thoughts are distracted (“there’s a wide white roar”) and she is in despair, feeling that her passion, her desire, her creativity (this “bell”) is lost forever (“drop a bell down the stairs/hear it fall forevermore”), feeling that it stopped (“blot it out in the sea/drowning mute as a rock”).
She describes how she views her harp (“system of strings”) and the relationship she has with it as she plays on stage, that they're a couple, intertwined and enraptured (“the articulation…makes us buckle as we couple in endless increase”).
Her desire, her passion (“the dove”), inspires her creativity, her musicianship, which is made with love, devotion, and hard work (“make with love, made with glue, and a glove, and some pliers”), but she doesn't want to do any of it, out of fear, out of sadness, out of anxiety, no, she keeps it hidden "in the dark" and wants her desire to “settle down.”
After her grief subsides from the tragedy, she has a moment of clarity, shaken through to the core she realized she needed to start playing again, start creating once more. So she asked the father of their lost child to help her get through it, to help mend her, preserve what was once lost (“bind my buttons with salt”), to distract her from the pain (“fill my long ears with bees”). But he wouldn't “(no you ought not”).
She gets the urge to play her harp, her music breathes life into her (“the system of strings tugs on the tip of my wings”), it starts to bring her joy again, brings out her desire and passion again ("makes me warble and rise like a sparrow"). But he doesn't support this, her playing, he chops her down, and takes what remains away piece by piece (“in the place where I stood, there is a circle of wood, a cord or two, which you chop and you stack in your barrow”).
She tries to appease him, telling herself that it's alright how he treats her (“it is terribly good to carry water and chop wood”), that it’s okay that he doesn't support her playing. But this makes her fall even further from her beloved bell tower, from her creative ways, from her passion and desire (“as I crash through the rafters and the ropes and pulleys trail after and the holiest belfry burns sky-high”).
She is being changed by him (“with your pliers and glue you make your first incision"). He makes her not want to play music, his behavior towards her and her allowance of this try to change her, mold her from something alive and free, into something hollow and superficial ("the dove who was stuffed now sawdust and diamonds"). She craves his comfort ("hold me close") as she embraces him and not her music.
But ultimately, she tries to comfort him instead, ignoring her own needs(“I wanted to say: why the long face?”). She wants take his sadness away, to make it hers if that would make him feel better (“I will swallow your sadness and eat your cold clay just to lift your long face”).
She is sick to her stomach, sad, “pale-faced and grave as I write in my log” and starts to think things through. She starts to hear her passion calling to her (“I hear a noise from the hull,”), that “damnable bell” that urges her to play music again “and it tolls - well, I believe, that it tolls - for me”). P.S., I thought it was brilliant that it’s the cathedral bell from lost magical city of Ys that calls to her!
She may seem weak to him (“though my wrists and my waist seemed so easy to break”), but she's actually the strong one, the one that would have supported him, been with him until the end, until death (“I would have walked you to the very edge of the water”), where he will finally see his daughter and know she's his (“they will recognize all the lines of your face in the face of…my daughter”). But she realizes their relationship is crumbling (“what was yours and mine appears to be a sandcastle that the gibbering wave takes”) and they should probably go their separate ways, but not yet. She asks him to warn her when the final blow hits, when it’s finally over (“say my name in the morning, so I know when the wave breaks”).
She's not stupid (“I wasn't born of a whistle or milked from a thistle at twilight”), she understands and she's strong (“I was all horns and thorns, sprung out fully formed, knock-kneed and upright”). She realizes they both deserve better, to heal with time, to be better on their own (“we deserve to know light and grow evermore lighter and lighter”). He probably would have stayed with her (“you would have seen me through”), but she can't continue to stay with him, because she needs to be free, to be an artist, must start playing again, to leave him for a life that he isn't ready for or that he can't follow(“but I could not undo that desire”).
Her struggle between loss and life, a man who accepts neither, and her calling to create something so beautiful it brings us to tears, is magical. I thank Joanna for giving us her unique way of healing, as it has its own healing quality in us all.