Song of an Exile – James Orr | Steampunk Irish Ballad of Atlantic Longing скачать в хорошем качестве

Song of an Exile – James Orr | Steampunk Irish Ballad of Atlantic Longing

Song of an Exile – James Orr (1770–1816) A cinematic steampunk adaptation of a powerful Irish exile poem. Written by Ulster poet James Orr, often called “The Bard of Ballycarry,” this poem captures the emotional and physical hardship of exile at sea — the storm, the suffering in the ship’s hold, and the aching memory of Ireland left behind. Orr was born in County Antrim and is associated with the United Irishmen movement of the late 18th century. His poetry reflects rural Irish life, political unrest, displacement, and deep emotional attachment to homeland. “Song of an Exile” stands as one of his most evocative sea laments — contrasting the beauty of Ireland with the brutal reality of transatlantic departure. This version lightly adapts the original public domain text for performance, with a darker cinematic and steampunk atmosphere — iron ships, storm skies, and industrial exile layered over Atlantic longing. 🎵 Adapted Lyrics (Performance Version) Song of an Exile In Ireland ’tis evening — from toil my friends hie all, And weary walk home o’er the dew-spangled lea; The shepherd in love tunes his grief-soothing viol, Or visits the maid who his partner shall be; The blithe milkmaid trips to the herd that stands lowing; The west richly smiles, and the landscape is glowing; The sad-sounding curfew and torrent fast-flowing Are heard by my fancy, though far, far at sea! What has my eye seen since I left the green valleys, But ships as remote as the horizon could be; Unwieldy huge monsters, as ugly as malice, And fragments of wreckage that sorrow me? What is seen but the fowl urging lonely flight, The lightning that darts through the surge in the night, And the dark-scowling sky with its bitter rain’s might On this cheek where care sits drooping, far, far at sea? How hideous the hold is! — Here children are screaming; There women faint, babes in their arms as they plea; Here down every hatch the great breakers are streaming, And there, with a crash, half the fixtures break free! Some quarrel, some curse, some sit dull tales telling; The mate’s drunk and raging, the sailors all yelling; What sickness and sorrow pervade my rough dwelling — A vast floating lazar-house, far, far at sea! How changed all may be when I seek the sweet village; A hedgerow may bloom where its street used to be; The floors of my friends may be furrowed by tillage, And the upstart now served by the fallen grandee; The axe may have felled the old grove that I haunted, And shadows be shelter where none yet were planted; Nor one friend remain who once shared what we wanted — The sociable sufferer far, far at sea! In Ireland ’tis night — on the flowers of my setting A parent may kneel, softly praying for me; The village lies smokeless — the red moon is getting That hill for a throne I still hope yet to see. If innocence thrives, many more must grieve for; Success, slow but certain, I’ll live and believe for; Yes, Sylvia, we’ll meet — and your sigh cease to heave for The swain your fair image haunts, far, far at sea! 📜 About James Orr James Orr (1770–1816) was an Ulster poet from Ballycarry, County Antrim. A weaver by trade, he became associated with the United Irishmen during the 1798 Rebellion. His poetry often blends rural imagery with political undertones, exile, loss, and devotion to Ireland. 🎬 Credits Original Poem: James Orr (Public Domain) Adapted Lyrics, Arrangement & Performance: © 2026 Irish Longing Cinematic Steampunk Concept: Irish Longing All Rights Reserved for This Recording.