Albion, Folk Tale, symbolism


Image result for turisaz



…Merlin was still lamenting his plight;

‘How does it happen that the seasons are so different?

Spring provides leaves and flowers,

Summer gives crops,

Autumn ripe apples,

but then Winter’s ice wastes all!

O, that there were no white frost…


The messenger interrupted the Wild Man’s complaint

with notes from a cither which he had brought with him.


He lay in the hazel thicket hidden from sight

and with a low voice began to sing;

‘O, the weeping tears of Gwendolina,

there were none amongst women as beautiful,

in fairness, prettier than the petals of the privet,

the glory of spring shone in her face,

the splendour of stars in her gaze,

but now she is worn with much weeping

for she knows not where her prince has gone!’


Thus sang the messenger in an attempt to sooth Merlin’s

madness and lure him from the wood…




2 thoughts on “Lyricist…”

We'd love to hear from you...

Please log in using one of these methods to post your comment: Logo

You are commenting using your account. Log Out /  Change )

Google photo

You are commenting using your Google account. Log Out /  Change )

Twitter picture

You are commenting using your Twitter account. Log Out /  Change )

Facebook photo

You are commenting using your Facebook account. Log Out /  Change )

Connecting to %s

This site uses Akismet to reduce spam. Learn how your comment data is processed.