1、Spancil Hill 史班赛山丘Spancil Hill 是一首典型的爱尔兰民谣，散见于不同的 CELTIC 专辑中。但它打动了我的心灵，却是在买到了菲尔柯尔特( Phil Coulter)的专辑月光沐情( Admire the Moonlight )之后，其中的第 3 首曲子就是 Spancil Hill，旋律是为我所熟悉的，似乎我以前在别的 CD 中听过。按彩页上的介绍这首曲子应该表达的是对于故乡的思念，是的，整盘专集中可以感觉到 Phil Coulter 对于故乡浓郁的情感，但那天在我听来，似乎没这么简单，不知道为什么突然一下子就打动了我，我反复地听了好多遍，似乎里面更多还有别的情感
2、的存在.有时我听音乐是不太顾及所谓的那些经典的介绍的，我不管它原来要表达的是什么意思，我只取我所理解和感悟到的就是了。音乐初起的时候，感觉作者是在大海边，沐浴在柔情的月光下，在夜的漆黑的孤寂里思念着大海那边的遥远的故乡，涛声印证着作者的心潮起伏和百回婉转，直到情感的难以抑制高潮迭起，音乐声突然转变为激烈和高亢，似乎是作者渴求远方的故乡和爱人的柔情和回应，作者也回忆起故乡或许还有故乡的爱人给予他的万般风韵和千种美丽，一切一切的美好的回忆。而后月光已经幻化为故乡以及爱人注视的目光，作者沐浴在爱人眼中的神采下为她吟唱，只为传达出所有浓郁的光晕，唱出对她的爱的同时也绽放着自己的光芒。歌声再度归于平静，
3、却难隐藏对她爱恋的升华，一次又一次心中的爱只向她抒发，不知道未来将高涨到何种地步.但我知道虽然曲子总有终止的时候，作者对故乡和爱人的爱恋却不会有休止符，一个 REPLAY 就会情感再起，而平时就让它藏在自己心中，表面上看起来如古泉水波澜不惊。欣赏： Spancil Hill 再见到这首歌曲出现在专集CELTIC MYST中时，已经是带有歌词的了，不能完全听懂这里面的英文歌词，于是想上网搜索一下它的完整歌词。而搜索出来的信息却印证了我的预感，其中一篇文章提到的这首爱尔兰民谣背后的悲剧故事吸引了我。欣赏： Spancil Hill(带歌词的) Spancil Hill 这个地方是真实存在的，它位于
4、 Ennis 和 Tulla 之间,现在在那儿只剩下一些断壁残垣和一条十字路了，可在当年，那儿却是一个著名马匹交易市场的举办地，每年都会有 10002000 匹马在这里交易，并吸会引大量的国外买家前来。Clooney 社区教堂离 Spancil Hill 也仅有一英里左右。这里原来叫作 Cnoc Fuar Choile（盖尔语），意即 The hill of the cold wood，不知何故，英语化后被称作 Spancil Hill。Spancil 这个词源自 “spancilling”，即用一条短绳绑在动物的左前腿和右后腿之间，以此来限制动物的活动，防止它们跑远。Spancil Hill
5、 马市通常在每年六月的 23 日举行，但在歌曲的第二段里写道，男主角 “在23 日是马市的前一天”（It being on the twenty third of June, the day before the fair），这又是怎么一回事呢？原来在老版的诗篇（附在文后）中有过说明：23 号恰好是安息日（Sabbath），遵照安息日不工作的传统，马市延后了一天。Spancil Hill 这首歌源自名为 Spancilhill 的诗篇，作者 Michael Considine 出生于1850 年，1870 年前后从 Spancilhill 移民到美国。他的部分亲戚也移居到了美国，但仍有一部分留
6、了下来，例如他五个月大的侄子 John。Michael 去美国后努力工作，希望能把自己的爱人也接过来并完婚，可惜他至死都没能存下足够她爱人移民的钱。他的爱人在最早版本的诗篇中说的很清楚，是“巡逻兵的女儿 Mack（Mack the Rangers Daughter）”，而非现在流行的版本中包括 The Corrs 的这个版本所说的“农夫的女儿 Ned（Ned the Farmers daughter）”，她就是 Michael 青梅竹马的爱人 Mary MacNamara。Michael 在波士顿工作了两年左右后去了加利福尼亚，在很长一段时间内饱受疾病的折磨。觉得自己将不久于人世，他写下了这篇
7、 Spancil hill 并寄回家乡爱尔兰，以此纪念自己的爱情。Michael 1873 年逝世，有人说他最后葬在了 Spancil hill，但也有人说他被葬在了加利福尼亚。而他的爱人 Mary MacNamara 则终身未嫁。附：Spancilhill 完整版诗篇Last night as I lay dreaming, of the pleasant days gone by,My mind being bent on rambling and to Erins Isle I did fly.I stepped on board a vision and sailed out with
8、 a will,Till I gladly came to anchor at the Cross of Spancilhill.Enchanted by the novelty, delighted with the scenes,Where in my early childhood, I often times have been.I thought I heard a murmur, I think I hear it still,Tis that little stream of water at the Cross of Spancilhill.And to amuse my fa
9、ncy, I lay upon the ground,Where all my school companions, in crowds assembled round.Some have grown to manhood, while more their graves did fill,Oh I thought we were all young again, at the Cross of Spancilhill.It being on a Sabbath morning, I thought I heard a bell,Oer hills and vallies sounded, i
10、n notes that seemed to tell,That Father Dan was coming, his duty to fulfill,At the parish church of Clooney, just one mile from Spancilhill.And when our duty did commence, we all knelt down in prayer,In hopes for to be ready, to climb the Golden Stair.And when back home returning, we danced with rig
11、ht good will,To Martin Moilens music, at the Cross of Spancilhill.It being on the twenty third of June, the day before the fair,Sure Erins sons and daughters, they all assembled there.The young, the old, the stout and the bold, they came to sport and kill,What a curious combination, at the Fair of S
12、pancilhill.I went into my old home, as every stone can tell,The old boreen was just the same, and the apple tree over the well,I miss my sister Ellen, my brothers Pat and Bill,Sure I only met my strange faces at my home in Spancilhill.I called to see my neighbors, to hear what they might say,The old
13、 were getting feeble, and the young ones turning grey.I met with tailor Quigley, hes as brave as ever still,Sure he always made my breeches when I lived in Spancilhill.I paid a flying visit, to my first and only love,Shes as pure as any lilly, and as gentle as a dove.She threw her arms around me, sa
14、ying Mike I love you still,She is Mack the Rangers daughter, the Pride of Spancilhill.I thought I stooped to kiss her, as I did in days of yore,Says she Mike youre only joking, as you often were before,The cock crew on the roost again, he crew both loud and shrill,And I awoke in California, far far from Spancilhill.But when my vision faded, the tears came in my eyes,In hope to see that dear old spot, some day before I die.May the Joyous King of Angels, His Choicest Blessings spill,On that Glorious spot of Nature, the Cross of Spancilhill.
