In Sands Of Cairo Lay (Lyrics) - 'Fields of Anthenry', Adaptation/ Re-write

I wanted to do something to honour the brave Egyptians that have fallen in the name of Freedom, Humanity and dignity. I have re-written/Adapted the lyrics to 'Fields of Athenry.', and named it 'In Sands of Cairo lay'. I have also added an extra verse. If any of the musician talents out there, wish to finalise the composition, (not far off the original - just possibly needs tweaking; or maybe you can put your own style to it), If you want to record it, Let me know, would be nice to hear it.


 I have 'not' re-written these lyrics 'lightly', and in no way, am I taking away from the original work and its meaning and context to many people - in particular the Irish (Half Irish Myself), if anything it pays homage to the song: the fact that I choose this over any other. In my opinion the musical composition, perfectly captures the meaning that I wanted to express with my lyrics. The original version was written in the middle of the 1970's by Pete St. John (real name Peter Mooney). Here is Peter Mooney's website, if you would like to go and thank him, for creating one of the best songs, that ever saw the light of day http://www.petestjohn.com/contact/




Here's the music . . .well - some of it http://www.ireland-information.com/downloads/midi/thefieldsofathenry.mid



I couldn't get hold of a good instrumental cover, would have chosen a harp or pan pipes or maybe the Egyptian Oud. The link above is to a very rudimentary mobile/ cell phone tune - Hit play and sing along, the music will finish before the lyrics, sorry if you were blasting it out. We The People -  Stand by you and support your fight for freedom, from oppression. United we stand, in every land.


Title: In Sands of Cairo lay


By a lonely coffin hole
I heard a young girl crying
Brother, They are taking you away
For you Spoke Mubarak's scorn
So your young might see the morn
Now a final procession carries you away

Chorus

Low lie, in the sands of Cairo lay
Where once we watched the small bennu bird fly
Our love was on the wing
We had dreams and songs to sing
It's so lonely in the sands of Cairo - sigh
 
By a lonely coffin hole
I saw a young boy sleeping
Nothing matters my wife, when your free
Against the Famine and the Crown
I rebelled they ran me down
Now you must raise our child with dignity.

Chorus

Low lie, in the sands of Cairo sigh
Where once we watched the small bennu bird fly
Our love was on the wing
We had dreams and songs to sing
It's so lonely in the sands of Cairo - sigh

By a lonely shallow grave
She watch the last star falling
As your freedom ship sailed up into the sky
Sure she'll mourn and hope and pray
For her love has gone away
It's so lonely in the sands of Cairo - sigh
It's so lonely in the sands of Cairo - sigh
[Music stops here but should carry on]

Chorus

Low lie, in the sands of Cairo lay
Where once we watched the small bennu bird fly
Our love was on the wing
We had dreams and songs to sing
It's so lonely in the sands of Cairo - sigh

By a lonely cold morgue
I saw a phoenix rising
Sister, They are taking you away
For you Stole Mubarak's corn
So your young might see the morn
Now a final procession carries you away
For a finer future, that you helped to lay.

Chorus

Low lie, in the sands of Cairo lay
Where once we watched the small bennu bird fly
Our love was on the wing
We had dreams and songs to sing
It's so lonely in the sands of Cairo - sigh

Lyrics by: Gwylym Owen with the help of some of Petes amazing Lyrics that I left in as the essence of the song..

Not sure how accurate this Egyptian Translation, Anyone - is welcome to improve it and i'll update it.

العنوان : في رمال القاهرة يكمن بواسطة ثقب نعش وحيدا سمعت فتاة تبكي الأخ ، فهي تأخذك بعيدا عن تحدثتم مبارك الازدراء حتى الشباب الخاص بك قد راجع موران الآن موكب النهائي يحمل كنت بعيدا جوقة قليلة تكمن في وضع رمال القاهرة أين مرة شاهدنا الطيور bennu صغيرة تطير كان حبنا على الجناح كان لدينا أحلام وأغان لغنائها وحيدا حتى في رمال القاهرة -- تنفس الصعداء بواسطة ثقب نعش وحيدا رأيت شيء صبي صغير نائم المسائل بلدي زوجة ، عندما مجانية ضد المجاعة وولي العهد أنا تمردت ركضوا بانخفاض لي الآن يجب رفع طفلنا بكرامة. كانت جوقة قليلة الكذب ، في رمال تحسر القاهرة أين مرة شاهدنا الطيور الصغيرة تطير bennu من جانب قبر ضحل وحيدة هي ووتش نجم آخر سقط على السفينة حريتك أبحر في السماء على يقين من انها سوف نحزن ، ونأمل ونصلي من أجل حبها قد ذهب بعيدا انها وحيدا حتى في رمال القاهرة -- تحسر انها وحيدا حتى في وضع تحسر [موسيقى توقف هنا ولكن يجب الاستمرار في] كذبة قليلة جوقة ، في رمال القاهرة أين مرة شاهدنا الطيور bennu صغيرة تطير كان حبنا على الجناح كان لدينا أحلام وأغان لغنائها وحيدا حتى في -- رمال القاهرة رمال القاهرة -- تنفس الصعداء بواسطة مشرحة البرد وحيدا رأيت فينيكس ارتفاع الأخت ، فهي تأخذك بعيدا لكنت سرق مبارك الذرة حتى الشباب الخاص بك قد راجع موران الآن موكب النهائي يحمل كنت بعيدا للحصول على مستقبل أكثر دقة ، التي ساعدت لوضع. وضع جوقة قليلة الكذب ، في رمال القاهرة أين مرة شاهدنا الطيور الصغيرة تطير bennu كان حبنا على الجناح كان لدينا أحلام وأغان لغنائها وحيدا حتى في رمال القاهرة -- تنفس الصعداءحبنا على
 الجناح كان لدينا أحلام وأغان لغنائها وحيدا حتى في رمال القاهرة -- تنفس الصعداء

Fields of Athenry - Original Lyrics

By a lonely prison wall
I heard a young girl calling
Micheal they are taking you away
For you stole Trevelyn's corn
So the young might see the morn.
Now a prison ship lies waiting in the bay.

Chorus

Low lie the Fields of Athenry
Where once we watched the small free birds fly.
Our love was on the wing
we had dreams and songs to sing
It's so lonely 'round the Fields of Athenry.

By a lonely prison wall
I heard a young man calling
Nothing matters Mary when you're free,
Against the Famine and the Crown
I rebelled they ran me down
Now you must raise our child with dignity.


Chorus 

Low lie the Fields of Athenry
Where once we watched the small free birds fly.
Our love was on the wing
we had dreams and songs to sing
It's so lonely 'round the Fields of Athenry.
 
By a lonely harbour wall
She watched the last star falling
As that prison ship sailed out against the sky
Sure she'll wait and hope and pray
For her love in Botany Bay
It's so lonely 'round the Fields of Athenry.

Chorus
.
Low lie the Fields of Athenry
Where once we watched the small free birds fly.
Our love was on the wing
we had dreams and songs to sing
It's so lonely 'round the Fields of Athenry.
Lyrics and music by: Pete St. John

If

If I don't, then I won't
If won't, the I didn't
If I didn't, then I couldn't
If I couldn't, then I shouldn't
If I shouldn't, then I shan't
If I shan't, then I can't
If I can't, then I will.

Average Joe

Songs full of human struggle
A strong man's lip quivers
The child's wide and bright eyes
A wife and a mother being left on her own
The field toiler, that struggles but still can't provide, for his family


For the life a Joe is as hard as hell, funny then how many saints survive
The special people, that can see far beyond. The special people, that live the song.
They all will live on, and one day we might even sing, about bluebirds and doves
and how people beat the silence and how people sung along, cause the people are so strong.


Songs full of sorrow and truth
The old fellow is crying for what he has lost
and the soldiers fight on, nailed to the cross
The poor and the sick and the weak
and as I listen to these song, a tear appears on my cheek


For the life a Joe is as hard as hell, funny then how many saints survive
The special people, that can see far beyond. The special people, that live the song.
They all will live on, and one day we might even sing, about bluebirds and doves
and how people beat the silence and how people sung along, cause the people are so strong.


Songs about death and some about life.
Songs about loss and hardship and spite
We'll listen to them all, but will we listen
Do we listen at all? Songs full of angst and tears
Passing the knowledge, so we might learn to embrace
The song of life, and sing the world a better place.


For the life a Joe is as hard as hell, funny then how many saints survive
The special people, that can see far beyond. The special people, that live the song.
They all will live on, and one day we might even sing, about bluebirds and doves
and how people beat the silence and how people sung along, cause the people are so strong.


Songs of my life and songs of yours
These songs are so sad, but will we never learn
Songs of the ages, songs of the sages
and songs about wages and songs about slaves
Won't you help to write a good song for today
The future and forever more, We can sing this song together.
We can sing this song forever and we can be in our own band.


For the life a Joe is as hard as hell, funny then how many saints survive
The special people, that can see far beyond. The special people, that live the song.
They all will live on, and one day we might even sing, about bluebirds and doves
and how people beat the silence and how people sung along, cause the people are so strong.

Cake Face

Have your cake but don't eat it
Liberty or freedom, make a choice
You can't have peace without a cost
you can't pay for people, you've lost
Have a sleep on your feet, or lie down awake,
Have a wife or a lover, and as you'll discover
You'll always want another,
But remember the golden rule
Have your cake but don't eat it.
Maintain peace with a war in the east
Sustain society by destroying its values
Killing children for a brighter future
Have your cake, but don't go and eat it.
What a life.

The Perfumer

The perfumer in the perfumery parlour,

Performing his perfuming.

Creating and chasing,

Mixing and stirring,

Pouring and whirling,

Until that thing has been found.

From up in a tree, from down in the ground,

The perfumer picking and plucking,

Jumping and ducking.

chasing not displacing the harmony.

the perfect perfumer performing for glee.

The peaceful performance of the free.

Empathetic Butterflies

Skin stretched to limiting degrees

Tear, rip and split

Opened like a zip

Mask by mask

Bit by bit

Ego letting go of its grip

Mind starting to stir and trip

Painfully processing,

Pupa emerging, from silken cocoon

Worthy though - the trauma

As beauty born its crown

Flapped its wings on all good things

Spread its joy throughout the land

Ego left behind

Banished from the mind’s

Virtue in its place

Sublime, bewitching, fascinatingly exquisite,  

Metaphorical meme

that beautiful butterfly in the wind.

To Be Bearded Or Not To Be Bearded? That Is The Question.

I am thinking of growing a beard, is it, all that weird?
I know, there are much more weighty issues, to ponder
But just bare with me, my smoothed skinned friends
We'll start by looking at beards, through an abstract lens,
A beard isn't a mustache, it grew to form a critical mass
And covered the form like a natural mask, hiding the past.
But it never lasts, as the mask is a sign of a fine aged wine.
I can think of many the wise man, that donned a curly mess
I wonder if I deserve, such a noble disguise and would it get
in my eyes, make them blurry and blind me, from within?
Should I grow a long beard or just stay with simple skin?
The cold whether beating my face, with beard all gone, erased.
Itching my chin, annoyingly, as whiskers primed, ready to grow.
My mind grabs hold and shouts no, no! This isn't the time to start
being blind, That wouldn't be kind, it wouldn't be fair to grow a beard
and pretend I don't care, it wouldn't be right with my thoughts, out of sight,
I'd enjoy the warmth and the coziness of a wiry hidden World
Though, I doubt it would take very long, for me to overheat.
So shall I change the image that you already have of me?
Or should I just have a shave and with every slice of the blade
My mind cut free, resigned myself to being bold, free of masks: Story told.

Deadman Walking

You're looking at a dead man walking
You're talking to a man in mourning
You're sharing now, but when I'm gone
You'll wish I stayed, for just a little while longer
My path is set, I have no regrets
So please don't miss me when I'm gone
Enjoy it while it lasts, take what you can
Hold on to that piece of me, to remind you I was here.
We're all the same in starry starry nights
We come and bestow and when its time we go.
You're looking at a dead man walking
You're talking to a man in mourning.
But for now I am here, with my heart on display
And a mission to complete, to bring the brighter day.

Sometimes

Sometimes you just wanna scream
but you know it won't help any.
So you scream silently and dignified.
You have no words to express anymore
just a huge sullen sigh, falls from your eye.
and the bridge is calling, all the while calling.
And I am falling, just free falling, with eyes closed
no care in this world, as I float down to fated ground.

Sleeping

To all of those that had to go
and all of you that still remain
Upon the final journey: separated.
Broken hearts shot down in flames
and the waken miss the sleeping
And those that sleep, do so in peace
Restful gentle sleep, no more pain
and though we'll miss your smile
It won't be long, until we're back as one
and for eternity we'll be together
the pain of that earlier separation
will be a long forgotten memory
and we will miss you no more.
We'll be here waiting, just waiting for your call.

Type-O

What quantity of order do you wish to impose
Getting eat-up by mistakes in my prose
Ignore the content that speaks from the soul
You'll never bestow order on that black whole
What are your rules in the end?
Try to comprehend: chaos is on the bend.
Type-O, gives the flow, that aesthetically attracts.
There are no ends and lines are circles.
Why question, then, my illiterate way
Abstract artists have the same to say.
Expressed in paint or through the form.
This is the place where my words are born
This very same place were the world is erased.
Spring of my wisdom's well, so tootle off;
now be on your way, i have but one final thing to say.
Learn to un-spell, it'll serve ye well
Ditch the broom too and that pointed hat
if you can't see through, that its all a trap
Take back your mind, demand your life back.
If you can't manage that, at least try to laugh.
Gramaticaster oh. . .what a disaster
verbiscent, longer than the words you lent
But still you insist on supervious resent.

Spaceman

Some days, I am walking on the moon;
Wearing moon boots and head in bubble.
It can get cold and lonely, up, in outer space.
Negotiating rough terrain, without a buggy.
A flimsy flag pole, is all i hold, as support.
Have you ever been to the moon's other side?
Lost your footing in the dark? Stumbled, fallen?
Sometimes, I find myself lost in lunar land.
Come back to Earth, with a thudding bang.
Astronaut rocketing, fuel tanks falling.
Atmosphere, stratosphere, in, out, with no fear.
Some days I get fed up with friends made of;
Cheese, when I am visiting, people on the moon.

Raising The Roof

Let us raise the roof, seeking truth
and running not walking through life
Running forward and then backwards
Getting up, after being knocked down
Fix broken noises, then play the sound
A magical rhythm, a wild primal beat.
Shuffling the feet, a tired redundant seat
and all the while, raising the roof
And all the while seeking the truth.
and sometimes flying in the night's sky
Hedonistic and wild sweating parties.
Dancing, following, where my heart is.
Living life with no regret, chains broken
All weight from shoulders disappear
As we live our lives, not through fear.

A poem about a poem

A poem about a poem - Forgive my dulcet tones.

Double Speak With Forked Tongue

Scream, now go faster;
from one disaster to another.
Clashing words that lack finesse;
writing more, producing less.
Shouting hypocrite, hypocrite!
from every line and paralysis sets-in
Reading the writing an awful din.
My ink poised ready to commit the sin.

Furrowed Brow

Furrowed brow, lines are forming
Worn out nails and cracking skin.
The aging oak's, sapling memories.
Fire in belly, quenched and dull.
Life is spent and leaves start to fall.
Ebbing, gently pushing through, to the end.
Hoping for bright lights and trumpeters.
To guide you home and release all fears.
Silently dancing with angelic souls
Passing peacefully in fetal crouch.
Procession in, procession out.
Weary weathered face, released.
Body worn and beaten, ceased.

A Mind In A Park

The mind is a hive man, you just can't hide
The mind is a dive man, a hollow pride and then

[Click. . .click. . .click]

Filled with the system, the man, uncle Sam

And the gap is getting wider, the rift needs to shift

[Click. . .click. . .click]

We're going backwards, in our progress. . . man
not talking technology or plastic bits of future waste

[Click. . .click. . .click]

I mean to be free from the grind, to claim back time man
To slow the pace, to turn the race man, into a leisurely stroll

 [Click. . .click. . .click]

A walk in the park man, a talk in a mind man, a mind in a man
A park in a man, a walk in a man, a mind in a park man, a mind in a park.

[Click. . .click. . .click]

Clock into reality, even when it's dark man, we need to find the light
We need light man, we need light, if we can't see the wick, man
if we can't see the wick, if only we could see the wick man.

Mediocre Bore

Like looking down cock Shaw lane
millions walk and drive and talk

Think, that a broke son of beat poet's mom
Got nothing to bring to a mediocre party

Why don't you see beyond your dome
Your own hippodrome, your safe home

I've been up and down so many times
Bottom and top look the same, all lame

Took back my brain, made it sane
what a shame it's such a lonely game.

Cock Shaw with blind folds tightly wrapped.
Just walking on eggs, worrying they'll crack.

Don't be a drag, an old fad, a character sad
get mad, get moving, there's a party over hear.

Aint no mediocre mocking fool at this gig
just all the hip chicks and sub cool crows

And none of us could give a fig, for fools drunk
on blood and as they swig, We'll dance, you dig?

You dig, you dig, you dig your own hole
You mediocre fool, you stupid useless tool.

We're gonna gig man, were gonna jig, were gonna dance
We're gonna have a party all of our own.

Your not invited, so on your way home,
refused at the door, leave your mediocre,
mediocre no more , leave you disgusting mediocre bore.

Zeus' Fiery Fame

There is a platoon of satellites in the heavens
and Zeus will soon ignite a fiery flame, for
not playing along with this long game, over and over
Same of the same, Maim after Maim, in what name?
There is a blanket of frequencies over our heads
And we become beacons, for gloomy Sunday tunes.
They're firing rockets at the moon, actions of a loon?
Bust and boom, part of the doom, part of the play.
Finding, claiming, maiming again and again
All this pain caused with no shame, divide, share
Bounty kill. Market the water, market the rain
Market air? have you lost your brain. Market me?
I'm not worth anything in your game, I choose to refrain.
I'm not a Pablo's hound or a Skinner's pigeon pecking fool
There is a squadron of satellites in the heavens
and Zeus will soon ignite a fiery flame.

Come And Go.

Go and stand in a wood all alone, then it becomes easier to hear how pathetically irrelevant, an ego truly is.

Go without a proper meal for a week, then your materialistic yearnings, may just erode the veneer, that protects you from truth.

Go into a dying child's room and watch the tears, the fears and the pain, then your Calais heart might wake again.

Go amongst the lepers, the homeless, the tortured and abused and your lack of empathy may be, by light; refused.

Go and step outside of that bubble, that soft cosy cocoon, that comfy laurel for your backside, commence forth with Truth.

Come and find the joy, but also seek out the pain, for if we can not see, then we are blinded and the pain may grow and grow.

Come to a place of even ground, take on board every sight and sound, but don't let it get you down, let it inspire you, move you.

Come and appreciate what you have, no matter how little, don't stop striving, but realise life is now, not yesterday, nor tomorrow.

Come to me, come to me now and I will come to you, but not in guile or superficial niceties, I mean really come to me.

Come out of a wood and stand with the people, then it becomes easier to imagine, a world of peace where tyranny ceased with egos released.

Come and Go, my gentle child, face the headlights, create your own insights. Come and go for freedom, born a brighter day.

If Poets Were Rock Stars

If poets were rock stars,we'd be on your Lear,we'd jettison off, whilst sipping Henri IV Dudognon Heritage Cognac & Quoting the Literary giants, whose shoulders, upon which we stand. We'd sing sweet nothings into the wilderness and know for sure, that the sweetness will be touched, received and passed and forever it would last. We'd have time in our hand and meet everyday to research and bounce view off view, we'd come to a conclusion and then a few, with opened mind we'd swap our rhyme, sing then sit, to fine dine. We'd cross that fine line, use any sign, that symbolises change, we'd rearrange and put back together the estranged, we'd sooth the enraged and we'd find the aged and serve them elixir cocktails.

 If poets were rock stars, we'd be on your Lear, we'd jettison off, to see what's left of old Rome, we'd go to Cairo, journey into the tomb, find that special brick, that unlocks all of the mysteries, as we travel and settle into the centre of that great pyramid of life, we'd realise there's no up and down, no need to wear a kingdom crown, in the centre, it all feels gentler, equal, equals, equal agenda. We'd commission an exploration, to locate and raise Atlantis from the murky depths, reverse that day and night to fortune.

If poets were rock stars, we'd be on your Lear, we'd jettison off, Eat caviar and sturgeon we'd be free from every burden, except to say, we'd pay by unburdening others, speak for those who know not what to say. If poets were rock stars, we'd be on your Lear, we'd jettison off, to a far off and exotic land, that hasn't yet been spoiled by human hand and on the way we'd play useless games with words and cross our minds as one, as we channel wisdom and treasure finds. No confines, no chain or ball, no limit or ends, no cage or net, travelling supersonic in our jet, no time for regret, as the future hasn't happened yet, but it won't be long before its here. Glimpsed it in the now and as it passes by and fades, instantly replaced by infinite shades. Shades of potential, neither dark nor glow, Its up to us how we chose to bestow.

 If Poets were rock stars we'd be on your Lear, we'd jettison off, and land by a lake, we'd visit the lady that in Loch Katrine lay, We'd sing limericks and lyrics to lift her spirits. Together we'd heal all clan that are rifted. We'd tell stories of human hearts and how humans came apart and why humans should start to start and see real smart that we all belong to each other.

If poets were rock stars, we'd be on your Lear, we'd jettison off and we'd come back home, we'd smells the familiar scents in the air, we'd breath a deep breath and forget our despair, we'd see sights and sounds that bring us joy.After a break it all looks great as we celebrate and now we're home, We contemplate, and as we do we realise that our rock star guise, and supersonic Sky's can not disguise what's in front of our eyes, maybe are our lives personifies a rock stars lies. We may have it all and more, as i said once before its up to us how we choose to bestow, the future is ours until it travels and passes, until it fades, infinite chooses in infinite shades, so try and look for the brightest hues, apply them to your daily views, if in doubt consult your muse. If poets were rock stars, we wouldn't be poets.