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Abecedarium ChronariumCows, like gold, Flow from the king; Generous with wealth, Avoiding the wolf. Aurochs show strength, Drive out the dross. The cosmic cow Brings the rains. Thorns are sharp, Painful to sit upon. Giants bring illness, Bad luck to women. Mouth begins language, A wise start for all. The All-Father comes From the opening-place. Riding upon a horse, Who carries you forth. Worse for him than you, But speedy for both. Torch blazes in the hall Where folk find rest; It burns to the touch, And dangerous for children. Gifts are the responsibility of those who have much. Generous folk are loved and known by all. Joy comes from freedom, Which lightens the load. The gift of the unknown: Not knowing brings bliss. Hail is coldest of grains, And death of serpents. It beats the earth, And melts into water. Need gives no choice, Hard work is its cure. Children who learn from it Will grow wise as they age. Ice is beautiful, A sight to behold; It is the roof of rivers, And a danger to cross. Year is the patience, The harvest we reap At the end of our toils. A blessing on the folk. Yew, greenest of trees: Upheld by deep roots You guard the fire And the bow bends in you. Dice-cup is the piece Bringing laughter to all: The luck of the roll Shows them their fate. Elk-sedge, sharp-tongued: Protected by blades, Growing in waters At the edge of the land. Sun, the highest hope, That lights the land; Victory over the ice. Shining ray, sky shield. Tir is the north star, Guiding the folk aright. Truth and justice shine Where his hand is placed. Birch is the fertile one Who grows when cut. Branches reach skyward, A strong crown of leaves. Horses, joy of princes, Give rest to the folk. Prideful, beautiful, Sacred to the gods. Man is joy to his fellow, But one day he may fail. Rejoice now in each other, For the future is unknown. Water wells up from below, Flows from the mountain, Shines with bright gold; Seek treasures within. Ing came from the east, Hero and king to all. Over the sea he traveled, The world comes into bloom. Day is given unto us, Rich and poor alike: Filled with mirth and song, A boon to the pious. Inheritance holds fast; The ancestors bring forth Wealth that never dies. Joy and peace to the folk.
Content © 2003-2012, Michael J Dangler |
