Inspired by the song Christmas At Sea from Sting's 2009 album If On A Winter's Night... , which the beautiful lyric was written by Robert Louis Stevenson in 1888, I did this painting of a sea scene. First time I heard this song was when watching a documentary about the making of this album, winter is not my favourite season ,specially in London as it's always depressing and wet. However this song ( the whole album) changed my feeling, it made winter tough but magical, it make me able to feel the power of belief not only in the religious sense but also in the spiritual way, that could bring up hope though the darkness.
It absolutely became one of my favourite album of all time and surly the best songs to listen to during winter.
All day we fought the tides between the North Head and the South
All day we hauled the frozen sheets, to 'scape the storm's wet mouth
All day as cold as charity, in bitter pain and dread,
For very life and nature we tacked from head to head.
Thograinn Thograinn
Thograinn thograinn bhith dol dhachaidh
(I wish we were going home)
E ho ro e ho ro
Gu Sgoirebreac a chruidh chaisfhinn
(To Scorrybreck of the white-footed cattle)
E ho hi ri ill iu o
Ill iu o thograinn falbh
Gu Sgoirebreac a' chruidh chais-fhionn
(To Scorrybreck of the white-footed cattle)
E ho ro e ho ro
Ceud soraidh bhuam mar bu dual dhomh
(The first blessing from me, as is my right)
We gave the South a wider berth, for there the tide-race roared;
But every tack we made we brought the North Head close aboard:
We saw the cliffs and houses, and the breakers running high,
And the coastguard in his garden, his glass against his eye.
The frost was on the village roofs as white as ocean foam;
The good red fires were burning bright in every 'longshore home;
The windows sparkled clear, and the chimneys volleyed out;
And I vow we sniffed the victuals as the vessel went about.
The bells upon the church were rung with a mighty jovial cheer;
For it's just that I should tell you how (of all days in the year)
This day of our adversity was blessed Christmas morn,
And the house above the coastguard's was the house where I was born.
And well I knew the talk they had, the talk that was of me,
Of the shadow on the household and the son that went to sea;
And O the wicked fool I seemed, in every kind of way,
To be here and hauling frozen ropes on blessed Christmas Day.