In brooks of glass that feed clear lakes
Under the shade of willow trees
There swim the fish of northern lands
That dart as fast as beams of light.
Beneath these glowing summer-fish
The willow-roots lie undisturbed
Gently curled about the prows
Of sunken ships that lie in wait
For halcyon days that cant return
When Vikings fought with sword and axe
And on the ocean waves did ride
And sank the ships with anchor hooks
And ramming prows that now lie dull
Amongst the bones of northern men.
Below even these watry graves
Tight-wrapped in Gaias stony arms
So much like roots of Yggdrasil
Entangled Gods and Goddesses
Forever sleep, now winters past
When storms awoke them from their rest.















Comments
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Yes, adequately disturbing.
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Slainte chugat
Gura slan an scealai
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Yes, adequately disturbing.
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