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Loreena McKennitt quotes
I have come to use the pan-Celtic history, which spans from 500 BC to the present, as a creative springboard. The music I am creating is a result of traveling down that road and picking up all manner of themes and influences, which may or may not be overtly Celtic in nature.
Loreena McKennitt
Oh night thou was my guide Oh night more loving than the rising sun Oh night that joined the lover to the beloved one transforming each of them into the other.
Loreena McKennitt
As you turned to go I heard you call my name, You were like a bird in a cage spreading its wings to fly "The old ways are lost," you sang as you flew And I wondered why.
Loreena McKennitt
Upon that misty night in secrecy, beyond such mortal sight Without a guide or light than that which burned so deeply in my heart That fire t'was led me on and shone more bright than of the midday sun To where he waited still it was a place where no one else could come.
Loreena McKennitt
As we cast our gaze on the tumbling sea A vision came o'er me Of thundering hooves and beating wings In clouds above.
Loreena McKennitt
Bonfires dot the rolling hillsides Figures dance around and around To drums that pulse out echoes of darkness And moving to the pagan sound.
Loreena McKennitt
The thundering waves are calling me home to you The pounding sea is calling me home to you.
Loreena McKennitt
I lost myself to him and laid my face upon my lover's breast And care and grief grew dim as in the morning's mist became the light There they dimmed amongst the lilies fair.
Loreena McKennitt
Standing on the bridge that crosses The river that goes out to the sea The wind is full of a thousand voices They pass by the bridge and me.
Loreena McKennitt
A clouded dream on an earthly night Hangs upon the crescent moon A voiceless song in an ageless light Sings at the coming dawn Birds in flight are calling there Where the heart moves the stones It's there that my heart is calling All for the love of you.
Loreena McKennitt
A painting hangs on an ivy wall Nestled in the emerald moss The eyes declare a truce of trust And then it draws me far away Where deep in the desert twilight Sand melts in pools of the sky When darkness lays her crimson cloak Your lamps will call me home.
Loreena McKennitt
Within my pounding heart which kept itself entirely for him He fell into his sleep beneath the cedars all my love I gave From o'er the fortress walls the wind would his hair against his brow And with its smoothest hand caressed my every sense it would allow.
Loreena McKennitt
One of the most wonderful and engaging things I've learned is that we are the culmination and extension of each other's histories and there is more that binds us together than separates us, and in discovering this, perhaps our needs are timeless and universal. I have a very deep interest in religion and spirituality. I like the Sufi perspective, which suggests that it is better to participate in the world than to become detached from the world.
Loreena McKennitt
To be a catalyst is one of my life's objectives. I've been inspired by many people who in turn have been catalysts. It's very interesting to see the waves of interest come and go in Celtic territory. If I can be a catalyst for other people, that's wonderful.
Loreena McKennitt
I have gone over three different translations of the poem, and am struck by how much a translation can alter our interpretation. I am reminded that most holy scriptures come to us in translation, resulting in a diversity of views.
Loreena McKennitt
There is a wonderful old Chinese proverb that I love, "A good traveler has no fixed plans and is not intent on arriving".
Loreena McKennitt
Upon a darkened night the flame of love was burning in my breast And by a lantern bright I fled my house while all in quiet rest.
Loreena McKennitt
To be a catalyst is one of my life's objectives.
Loreena McKennitt
Until the early nineties, I was under the impression that the Celts were this mad collection of anarchists from Ireland, Scotland and Wales.
Loreena McKennitt
May, 1993 - Stratford... have been reading through the poetry of 15th century Spain, and I find myself drawn to one by the mystic writer and visionary St. John of the Cross; the untitled work is an exquisite, richly metaphoric love poem between himself and his god. It could pass as a love poem between any two at any time ... His approach seems more akin to early Islamic or Judaic works in its more direct route to communication to his god... I have gone over three different translations of the poem, and am struck by how much a translation can alter our interpretation. I am reminded that most holy scriptures come to us in translation, resulting in a diversity of views.
Loreena McKennitt