Sunday, November 07, 2004

I was young with no time - A Gaelic song

Back then, in palaces of gold
Surrounded with my soul
In the days of my youth
Near the abbey, past my core

I was young with no time
Devoid of serious thought
Devoid of earthly wisdom
I was the son of the gods

They caressed me in their heights
I ran free through their streams
I was afraid of nothing
I could touch the sky hands-bare

My language was another
So was another my soul
From the dew of the morning
I composed that day my song

I existed somehow else
In another set of selves
I invented a face every morning
It was painted by my soul

No knowledge of men I breeded
No epos, no unison
I was a lyrical ode
My navigation not forlorn

To those days I belong
To my childhood, a stronghold
In my eyes I can't find them
They're a cluster of thought

From my existence I've been stolen
I have no voice of my own
I'm the speech of other sorrows
They're hollow in their go

In my vicious endeavour
I forwent those days of my youth
My struggles are all over
All the more am I undone

I swallow the seed of life
It's enough poison for both
For the child, for the adult
We are creatures and words

The white smell of manlihood
The darkening hues of love
Embracing me in their flow
I am no longer encore

I'm unkind to human kind
I miss those days of my youth
Runnning endlessly in comfort
A son of goddesses I was born

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