I know, different Day of the Dead, but I am always reminded of this poem today:
On the day of the dead, when the year too dies,
Must the youngest open the oldest hills
Through the door of the birds, where the breeze breaks.
There fire shall fly from the raven boy,
And the silver eyes that see the wind,
And the Light shall have the harp of gold.
By the pleasant lake the Sleepers lie,
On Cadfan's Way where the kestrels call;
Though grim from The Grey King shadows fall,
Yet singing the Golden Harp shall guide,
To break their sleep and bid them ride.
When the Light from the lost land shall return,
Six Sleepers shall ride, six Signs shall burn,
And where the Midsummer's tree grows tall,
By Pendragon's sword the Dark shall fall.
Y maent yr mynyddoedd yn canu, ac y mae'r argleyddes yn dod.
[The mountains are singing and the Lady comes.]
from Susan Cooper's The Grey King
( 10:27 FH | things with words. )"When the Dark comes rising,
six shall turn it back.
Three from the circle,
three from the track.
Water, fire, wood
bronze, iron, stone
six signs the circle
and one will go alone."
Susan Cooper, The Dark Is Rising
Posted by: ian at 10.10.03 11:32