Beltane Poem

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Title: Beltane Poem

Author: Aleric the Green


May, clad in cloth of gold, cometh this way:

The fluting of the blackbirds heralds the day.

The dust colored cuckoo Cries welcome O queen!

For winter has vanished, the thickets are green.


Soon the trampling of cattle where river runs low!

The long hair of the heather, the canna like snow.

Wild waters are sleeping, foam of blossom is here;

Peace, save the panic In the heart of the deer.


The wild bee is busy, The and honey spills,

The wandering kine are abroad on the hills.

The harp of the forest, sounds low, sounds sweet.

Soft bloom on the heights; On the loch, haze of heat.


The waterfall dreams; Snipe, corncakes, drum

by the pool where the talk of the rushes come.

The swallow is swooping; Song swings from each brae;

Rich harvest of mast falls; The swamp shimmers gay.


Happy the heart of man, eager each maid;

Lovely the forest, the wild plane, the green glade.

Truly winter is gone, come the time of delight,

the summer truce joyous, May, blossom-white.


In the heart of the meadows the lapwings are quiet;

A winding stream makes drowsy riot.

Race horses, sail, run, rejoice and be bold!

See, the shaft of the sun makes the water-flag gold.


Loud clear the blackcap; The lark trills his voice.

Hail May of delicate colors

Ttis May-Day - rejoice!