fields of gold

Partly inspired by XW's blog, and partly because of the mini-nostalgia binge my friends and i have been indulging in today:


Fields of Gold

You’ll remember me when the west wind moves
Upon the fields of barley
You’ll forget the sun in his jealous sky
As we walk in fields of gold

So she took her love for to gaze awhile
Upon the fields of barley
In his arms she fell as her hair came down
Among the fields of gold

Will you stay with me, will you be my love
Among the fields of barley
We’ll forget the sun in his jealous sky
As we lie in fields of gold

See the west wind move like a lover so
Upon the fields of barley
Feel her body rise when you kiss her mouth
Among the fields of gold

I never made promises lightly
And there have been some that I’ve broken
But I swear in the days still left
We’ll walk in fields of gold
We’ll walk in fields of gold

Many years have passed since those summer days
Among the fields of barley
See the children run as the sun goes down
Among the fields of gold

You’ll remember me when the west wind moves
Upon the fields of barley
You can tell the sun in his jealous sky
When we walked in fields of gold
When we walked in fields of gold
When we walked in fields of gold


(by Sting, from the album Ten Summoner's Tales)


This song is pure nostalgia. You have to listen to the original Sting version to feel the yearning - it's due to the combination of lush instrumentation (but never too lush - there is a restraint here that stops the violins and guitars from overwhelming the song) and Sting's voice (a voice that evokes the coming of old age, with its losses and its gains evenly weighed and measured).

Eva Cassidy did a cover version which Sting, apparently, said was better than his original. i disagree. Eva's voice is too young, too clear for this song, and even though her execution is flawless, i prefer Sting's because it speaks the song's meaning so much more honestly. Even the insistent rhythm of the original communicates the sense of time's winged chariot hurrying nearer and nearer more effectively than Eva Cassidy's languid lyricism.

This is a song for old age, and youth, no matter how wise beyond its years, will never be able to understand it truly. Which is exactly how it ought to be.
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