| 1 | Nest baragon wor clāron, | No bread on the board, | |
| nec curmi in nāwyāi. | nor beer in the bowl. | ||
| Stagrās samosespās | Summer-dry streams | ||
| wo·selont samalī caχtās. | slink low like slaves. | ||
| 5 | Au·tetoye arincā, | Gone is the wheat, | |
| etic windosasyos. | and the white barley. | ||
| Sēbroi tarbont slēbos, | Spectres haunt the threshing-floor, | ||
| serrās wor selwān crabancās. | sickles in clawed hands. | ||
| Cu donyos maleti·yo? | Where now the miller, | ||
| 10 | Uχsū mantrāti·yo? | and the trampling oxen? | |
| Yon tausyont maginā, | When the millstone falls silent, | ||
| mailos est martos butācī. | evil is the farmer's fate. | ||
| Cridyā ambaχton coryon, | Wolves gnaw the heart, | ||
| cnāyontor bladibi. | of warband and ploughmen. | ||
| 15 | Nest blātos in bolgē, | No ground grain in the bag, | |
| nec curmi bracitegesi. | nor beer in the brewhouse. |
What I Am Doing In September: Ritual
8 years ago
D=
Any chance of downloading an audio file of you
speaking your gallo-brittonic poem?
No one else could do it better.
C=