- 歌詞
- アルバムリスト
- 歌手の紹介
Iris DeMent
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Listening to Singing
A woman's voice, like the wind, rushes— Nocturnal, moist and black And as it flies, whatever it brushes Changes and will not change back.
It's a diamond-shine comes to bathe and bless, Things are draped in a silver light, It rustles its suggestive dress. Woven of fantasy, silken and bright.
And the power that propels the enchanted Voice displays such hidden light, It's as if the grave were not ahead, But mysterious stairs beginning their flight. [1961]
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