Wednesday, December 26, 2018

Asatru winter poem



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Surpassing the Winter

There is no King nor Queen
To rule over this land
The last remnants I have seen
Have sunk under the sand

A time of great rulership
Now forgotten in ancient lore
When honor in men went too deep
And by the sword they swore

The wooden halls were sacred
Blessed by gods, elves and wights alike
Wise man's words weren't wasted
Wisdom was the law's strike

The wolves howl and the ravens croak
The waking of a new dawn
Campfires and their black smoke
Time to store wheat and corn

Winter approaches with freezing wind
The realm of lords of hunting
Hares and deers were skinned
And back in the farm, the pig's grunting

Hard works ended at October's eve
Burning the soil, a blessing of fertility
The falling of the first leaf
The season's beginning of nature's hostility

Gathering wood to feed the flames
Snow and ice covers the door
To gods, we call upon their names
In need, they won't ignore

Surviving to watch the sun rise
One's victory every waking day
As the winter fades and dies
We may rejoice at its decay.

© Arith Härger



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