I Benandante
We dance under the walnut in smock
We curse the Lapwing in gold and white
The veil is placed upon its eyes
Our lake is hidden from his sight
Upon eight legs I draw the circle near
I wept with the twin death in Cremona
They were not veiled from his gaze
My blood was taken from me then
From Veglio I felt the rope
My death shall right this day
Upon a sword of fennel
Dark tombs safe in silence
Beautiful Pilgrim high on her steed
In weathered skin I walk my mountains
With fear and illness it is I they seek
Where is the child of my heart?
Maiden arms the sun turns brown
Mother's wisdom upon my birth
Born under caul and smile
This earth holds my blood and joy
From afar a young Oak taught me
faeryluna.com
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