by James Joyce (1882 - 1941)

Tilly
Language: English 
Available translation(s): FRE GER
He travels after a winter sun,
Urging the cattle along a cold red road,
Calling to them, a voice they know,
He drives his beasts above Cabra.

The voice tells them home is warm.
They moo and make brute music with their hoofs.
He drives them with a flowering branch before him,
Smoke pluming their foreheads.

Boor, bond of the herd,
Tonight stretch full by the fire!
I bleed by the black stream
For my torn bough!

Authorship

Musical settings (art songs, Lieder, mélodies, (etc.), choral pieces, and other vocal works set to this text), listed by composer (not necessarily exhaustive)

Available translations, adaptations, and transliterations (if applicable):

  • FRE French (Français) (Guy Laffaille) , title 1: "Bonus", copyright © 2009, (re)printed on this website with kind permission
  • GER German (Deutsch) (Bertram Kottmann) , title 1: "Zugabe", copyright © 2014, (re)printed on this website with kind permission


Researcher for this text: Barbara Miller

Text added to the website: 2005-01-13 00:00:00
Last modified: 2014-08-21 21:55:38
Line count: 12
Word count: 77