We hold our white vestments close
and we shall don this shroud
of life and love and loss
In Gaul we stand proud
Skyward, our holy elders will climb
and reach the mark of the wild
This mistletoe on this oak
shall bring forth animal's child
This gift will render us divine
And cleanse our bodies of death
Our lips are moist with the wine
Of life and love and loss
We sing and dance and pray
The sixth moon will not sway
This stag will feed our kind
We sing and dance and cry
We hold our white vestments close
As we end this holy day
We sing and dance and pray
The sixth moon will not sway
This stag has fed our kind
We sung and danced and cried
Rituals of the Oak еще тексты
Оценка текста
Статистика страницы на pesni.guru ▼
Просмотров сегодня: 1