A far distant isle
lies in leagues fifty-thrice
over the ocean to the west
larger than Erin, twice.
*
Many faceted Emain
encircled by sea
rising from tide into sky
an ever wondrous beauty.
*
On the fair isle of Emain
a hoary tree grows
its silver-laced branches
blossom like no-one yet knows.
*
Multi-hued birds
sing within the tree tops
on a white-silver plain
do dragon-stones drop.
*
Unheard is wailing
as sweet-music strikes ear
it issues through Emain
banishing all fear.
*
A band of nine women
come down from a height
over variegate plains
to the seaside, pure-white.
*
Onward they run
to a stone shining-bright
for about it to dance
raising songs in the night.
*
The pure man arrives there
rowing in on the flood
stirring the ocean
as sun turns to blood.
*
At dawn he arises
a delight to sore eyes
his coracle of bronze
illumining blue skies.
*
A splendour of colour
glistens in the land
spreads its glorious range
over sea-washed sand.
*
The host he brings with him
for long ages stay
their beauty in freshness
knows not death nor decay.
*
In happiness and health now
their laughter peals loud
on Emain in each season
reigns joyousness proud.
*
My song to you all then
still in strife and in pain
you must voyage on the ocean
to the fair isle of Emain.
*
Reblogged this on O LADO ESCURO DA LUA.
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Thank you…
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A wonderful epic poem, Stuart.
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Thanks, Robbie…
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