크레딧
실연 아티스트
In the Country
실연자
Solveig Slettahjell
리드 보컬
Knut Reiersrud
전자 기타
Sidsel Endresen
스포큰 워드
Morten Qvenild
피아노
Pål Hausken
드럼
Roger Arntzen
일렉트릭 베이스 기타
작곡 및 작사
Morten Qvenild
작사가 겸 작곡가
에밀리 브론테
가사
프로덕션 및 엔지니어링
Morten Qvenild
프로듀서
Bård Ingebrigtsen
믹싱 엔지니어
Jørgen Træen
마스터링 엔지니어
가사
The Night-Wind
In summer's mellow midnight,
A cloudless moon shone through
Our open parlour window,
And rose-trees wet with dew.
I sat in silent musing
The soft wind waved my hair
It told me heaven was glorious,
And sleeping earth was fair.
I needed not its breathing
To bring such thoughts to me
But still it whispered lowly,
How dark the woods will be!
The thick leaves in my murmur
Are rustling like a dream,
And all their myriad voices
Instinct with spirit seem.
I said, Go, gentle singer,
Thy wooing voice is kind:
But do not think its music
Has power to reach my mind.
Play with the scented flower,
The young tree's supple bough,
And leave my human feelings
In their own course to flow.
The wanderer would not heed me
Its kiss grew warmer still.
O come! it sighed so sweetly
I'll win thee gainst thy will.
Were we not friends from childhood?
Have I not loved thee long?
As long as thou, the solemn night,
Whose silence wakes my song.
And when thy heart is resting
Beneath the church-aisle stone,
I shall have time for mourning,
And THOU for being alone.
In these stanzas a louder gale has roused
the sleeper on her
pillow: the wakened soul struggles to
blend with the storm by
which it is swayed:
Aythere it is! it wakes to-night
Deep feelings I thought dead
Strong in the blastquick gathering light
The heart's flame kindles red.
Now I can tell by thine altered cheek,
And by thine eyes' full gaze,
And by the words thou scarce dost speak,
How wildly fancy plays.
YesI could swear that glorious wind
Has swept the world aside,
Has dashed its memory from thy mind
Like foam-bells from the tide:
And thou art now a spirit pouring
Thy presence into all:
The thunder of the tempest's roaring,
The whisper of its fall:
An universal influence,
From thine own influence free
A principle of lifeintense
Lost to mortality.
Thus truly, when that breast is cold,
Thy prisoned soul shall rise
The dungeon mingle with the mould
The captive with the skies.
Nature's deep being, thine shall hold,
Her spirit all thy spirit fold,
Her breath absorb thy sighs.
Mortal! though soon life's tale is told
Who once lives, never dies!
-Emily Brontë
Written by: Emily Brontë, Morten Qvenild
