Guy Hoyle
PS I've got a copy of Seamus Heaney's "Beowulf", and am waiting for Anglo-Saxon inspirations to strike.
Did you work upon the Daughter's Road
Did you fare outside the Line
Were your lunars earned in Boldhome
Were they from Euglyptus' time
Did the old songs taunt or cheer you
And did they still make you cry
Did you count the months and years
Or did your teardrops quickly dry
Ah, No says he twas joy for me
For to bless these folk I came here
And I brought the Goddess out so far
That they all now know Her name
Thousands are streaming
Across the crimson Glowline
To a land of Lunar sovereignty
that our children they will some day see
Seven Mums prevailing
Across the crimson Glowline
With bellies full
And their spirits prance
They'll break the chains of ignorance
And they'll dance
In Pavis� desert twilight
In the death of afternoon
We stepped hand and hand at Zola Fel
Bathed in scarlet from the moon
"Red Vexillum" broke the silence
As you whistled it so sweet
And in the Dancer's footsteps
I capered up and down the street
Then we said goodnight to Moonbroth
Giving it our best regards
Tipped our hats to lovely Jar-Eel
All the Empire�s favourite bard
Then we raised a glass to Moonson
And a dozen more besides
When I got back to my empty room
With joy I must have cried
Thousands are streaming
Again across the Glowline
Where the hand of Lunar sovereignty
Lies poised upon the Mirrorsea
Woodcuts we're mailing
Of sky-blue skies and oceans
>From rooms Sedenya oversees
Where bliss perfumes our every breeze
When we dance to the music
And we dance
Thousands are streaming
Across the crimson Glowline
Where the hand of Lunar sovereignty
Gives comfort and caresses me
Where e'er we go, we celebrate
The land that makes us mission'ries
With scarlet priests and heaping plates
And familiar Lunar effigies
So we dance to the music
And we dance
Adapted by Guy Hoyle from the Pogues� "Thousands are Sailing" by Philip Chevron. (with thanks to Nick Brooke)
Ignorance is preferable to error; and he is less remote from the truth who believes nothing, than he who believes what is wrong. - Thomas Jefferson
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