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Ken Kathake Helua (Kosli Poem)

Ken kathake helua
Kanje dharala bhalu
Pitel peila inar andhar.
Ketnikete saja delana
E nar e andhar aaru muin
Bhabuchen eta mor tihar.

Puspunir mada itha khauchhu ta kha
Ni kaha na gurdu katha jamana badal gaya.
A pila tui nangala ni hela tak
Kari parbu kana mate ni lagbar.

Nakhartake lagauchhu kudher
Ujala take kahuchhu kala andhar.

Gulmal sabu ena arru ja ja daki aan
Pilamanke ghar bhitru.
Gulmal lagbarta ni se
Tumar kabar ni se jibarta kahar paske
Barluti jabardasti
Jena jenta achhe jenta
Badlu balu kenta baluchha kejane
Janhele badlisi ken kenta?

Gulmal ni lag ni lag baele bhi
Kie manba ni lagbar mate.
Thik ta ke thik kahebarkaje
Ketejan ina achan
Janbarke padbar tumke.

Muin achhe aaru morne achhe samia
Pher bhi helua helake sabu jauchhe
Chuilmudke aaru heta henu
Ni kahiparbar kahake.

poem by Gajanan Mishra
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Tha e ne (Kosli kabita)

Khet mor ta kudmi muin bunmi muin bija
Sabu karmi muin lata bachha palha rua
Daebar madabar gharke buhibar kam bhi mor.
Mate chhadidele aaru ni na kihe kehensithane
Kenta karmi karmi jenta jena chhadmi heta henu
Aaru ni jaen kahin.
Muin achhen e na aaru e na thibartak heba
Jenta karuthimi heta
Ni kalata heba heta kahebarta kenta alajuk aae.
Achhen muin morthane basuchhen uthuchhen gadhuchhen
Dekhuchhen karuchhen mor kam mor khete
Mor kala kam thanu kenta sikhla tume sikhi ja
Aaru tha e na.

poem by Gajanan Mishra
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Aagla din

Rahemi kenta chhadikari tamke
Bisita laguche samiya
Ni thilabele tame ine.
Mor aink ni parbar dekhi
Aaru kichhu ketebele.
Raet ni sarbar ni sarbar din
Aaru muin hauchhen hapsi kechdei.
Morthanu kenke paleichha bhail tame
Mor e chhuri hebarta sat aai kain.
Kaan thirar lagi muin ni parbar rahi
morta kenta heba tamar
kede kede bepari helena phel ena
Aaru chhadikari palale na surat.
Aaru ken kaje mate deba kie kana
Phulmala aaru muin kahemi hela hela
Thik bujhagala.
Aagla din takichhe mate aaru
Tumke dekhabarkaje aaru ken kenta.

poem by Gajanan Mishra
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MOHABAT BY wafa memon

Posted on January 20,2012


MOHABAT

Mohabat mang kar us sy bohat deer tak roe, , ,
Kaha main ny…..
Mujhy ye dard acha nahi lagat,
Kaha us yn……
Tu har dard sy ab aashana hoja,
Kaha main ny…
Ye sarad mosam kab tak satayega,
Kaha us yn……
Tapata soraj tery man ko jalaega,
Kaha main ny…
Mujhy yonu dard ki dehleez py na choro,
Kaha us yn……
Isi dehleez py toty khawabon ko apny joro,
Kaha main ny…
Hawaon ny jegar mera to chera hy,
Kaha us yn……
Zakham tera to pehly sy hi gehra hy,
Kaha main ny…
Ku talakh lehja tumhara hy?
Kaha us yn……
Ye hi to dilruba aandaz hamara hy!
Kaha main ny, suna us ny…..
MOHABA dilfarebi, jawedani hy,
Kehta hy~WAFA~ ko wo…….
Seheya rat ki manid mohabat gehra pani hy
WAFA MEMON

poem by H. wafa Memon
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Kena kana (Kosli poem)

Kenke jimi ho aaru karmi kana
e kame paemi kenu kete dam
Khaemi kana aaru rahemi kena
Kie achhe kena ho Kana thik kana bhul
Kahemi kentakari aaru janba kie
Han baluchha ki nein.

Kana heichhe and tume karuchha kana
Kie chhinhichhe kahake
Baigan gachhe phaluchhe bhendi
Kie dekhichhe kanje nachhuche
Pusha kukur kie janichhe aaru nachhuchhe
pahanpahanu ni janikari kichhu.

Bat achhe ken inu
Baharikari palabar kaje
Khujuchhen saj je kahemi
muin achhen a amka kan hauchhu ga
Aaru helebi kana kariparbu ken ketebele.

Where what

Where shall I go
What shall I do
What shall I get from where
Where is my share.

Who is where
Who is there to say
Right and wrong
And how he will say
Who knows yes or noes.

What has happened
What are you doing
Who recognized what
Lady finger is there
In brinjal tree
Who has seen the dance
Who has seen the pet dog
In the early morning.

Where is the path
To go out
I am in search of time
To say O so and so
What are you doing and
What shall you do me
See I am here as before.

poem by Gajanan Mishra
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Aambure (Kosli Poem)

E naed kana kaheba
Kaheba baele kaheba
Naed khandir aambure.

Baraph kenta kari pighilsi
Aaru hesi baed aame ni janbar.
Ni janbar jue kentakari jalsi dan dan
Aaru kakar padsi kenta adhratia.

Gurdu gurdu kana kana
Kahebarkaje dhaundhisi naed
Aaru ni kahe kichhu
Rahijaesi kenthane ni pade jana.

Muin ken jainsi haji
Kahake kenta kari kahemi
Mor itihas bhugol
Kiw kaheba mate paenli
Sabkar samne.
Heta henta hesi
Ni jani kihe ni kahipara.

Suna suna Raghaba
Kan karba sunikari ni pachhara
Tautar dalal budhijibimanku
kahebarta kenta kada
Sunikari jirabarta bhi henta.

poem by Gajanan Mishra
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Taki tha (Kosli poem)

e phirphirimane kenta usad hei kari kindruchan dekha ta
Dekha ta e bhursakirahmane paso aasi kari gharbhitarke
Guda karmu baluchan.

Han bala jentajenta kahi kahi galabelke muin
No kaheba kenaade kichhu aaru kahela baele
Barluti bag gudanu bag chua ke betinelabagir
Betinele ni kaheba mte kichhu.

asur heu ki parur amkasi gute bi ni aasi
e am gachhe aaru ladi heiche khali patar.
Tumar balad ta bada sutar hele paske gale
Marsi lad han balata kahuchen sonpurian mita.

Aaru ken ken katha ni kahela ken aaru hemane
kahuchhan taki tha
Taki tha taki tha Mahanadi khaend dhaskilajae.

poem by Gajanan Mishra
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Ken

YOWWW! Ha!
We look to the left and to the right
We need help but nobody's in sight
Where is the man that we all need
Well tell him he's to come and rescue me
Chorus:
Do do 'n do do 'n do dow
Do do 'n do do 'n do dow
Ken is the man that we all need
Ken is the leader of the GLC
Now head 'em up
Rope 'em in
Move 'em out
Now can't you see
That we need the leader of the GLC
Do do 'n do do 'n do dow
Do do 'n do do 'n do dow
Ken is the man that we all need
Ken is the leader of the GLC
Who is the man we all need?
(KEN!!)
Who is the funky sex machine?
(KEN!!)
Who is the leader of the GLC?
(KEN!!)
Who is the man we all need?
(KEN!!)
Now head 'em up
Rope 'em in
Move 'em out
(KEN!!)
Can't you see
That we need ah-ah-ah-ah-ah
Do do 'n do do 'n do dow
Do do 'n do do 'n do dow
Ken is the man that we all need
Ken is the WAHWHAYEAYEAYEAYEA!!!!
Who is the man we all need?
(KEN!)
(KEN!)
Do do 'n do do 'n do dow
Do do 'n do do 'n do dow
Ken is the man that we all need
Ken is the leader of the GLC!!

song performed by Kate Bush
Added by Lucian Velea
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Robin Hood And The Potter

In schomer, when the leves spryng,
The bloschems on every bowe,
So merey doyt the berdys syng
Yn wodys merey now.

Herkens, god yemen,
Comley, corteysse, and god,
On of the best that yever bar bou,
Hes name was Roben Hode.

Roben Hood was the yemans name,
That was boyt corteys and fre;
For the loffe of owr ladey,
All wemen werschep he.

Bot as the god yemen stod on a day,
Among hes mery maney,
He was war of a prowd potter,
Cam dryfyng owyr the ley.

'Yonder comet a prod potter,' seyde Roben,
'That long hayt hantyd this wey;
He was never so corteys a man
On peney of pawage to pay.'

'Y met hem bot at Wentbreg,' seyde Lytyll John,
'And therfor yeffell mot he the,
Seche thre strokes he me gafe,
Yet they cleffe by my seydys.

'Y ley forty shillings,' seyde Lytyll John,
'To pay het thes same day,
Ther ys nat a man arnong hus all
A wed schall make hem ley.'

'Her ys forty shillings,' seyde Roben,
'Mor, and thow dar say,
That y schall make that prowde potter,
A wed to me schall he ley.'

Ther thes money they leyde,
They toke bot a yeman to kepe;
Roben befor the potter he breyde,
And bad hem stond stell.

Handys apon hes horse he leyde,
And bad the potter stonde foll stell;
The potter schorteley to hem seyde,
'Felow, what ys they well?'

[...] Read more

poem by Andrew Lang
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Baekhujen

Kanhelaje hetarpaske jauchha
Aaru hauchha khujei aaru
Chhatpatuchha chuchhake.
Bhagiaasikari thanbasa
Alag karidele ni hue ken
Hetake chhadidia hetarthane
Ni khuj na uttar kaharirnu.
Sunuchha bhael kahar katha
Kiw kaheba aamar e sabu
Ijudi galana sabu e mankarthane
Aaru ni hauna munusmakad kihe.

Hemane sabu tautarmane
Jhuri dharsan suinbhate
Rassusbe kalekale aaru
Atha latkabe aamar mude.
Kan helaje jauchha
He baikhujenmankar paske.

poem by Gajanan Mishra
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Kentaje kejane (Kosli kabita)

Marbarta khali achhe agake
Kenta bala?
Bala ta jive had achhe baele.
Nipara ithirlagi tamebhi smilhei
Hemanakarsange.

Rakata susuchhan hemane
Kaelja khujuchhan hemane
Kahuchhan angurthanu aaru kenta
Mithalagta bo.

Ketnikete gadh
Maet paen sabuke misei
Karuchhan putla aaru hetake
Dekhauchhan sapan aaru
Kahuchhan sapan aamar
Itarupre ni kahipara kichhukihe.

Kentaje kejane marbarke aaichhan
Jenmane ni parbar mari
Aaru jenmane ni maru baluchhan
Ni parbar banchhi.

poem by Gajanan Mishra
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Sabu Aachhe(Kosli Poem)

Sabu aachhe
E tamar bhitre
Khuji kari paele
janaadba buarpuo.

Tume purthi aae
Kuti kuti purthi aachhe
E tamar bhitre.

Khuja aaru dekha
Kede kede samudar
Aaru aaru kete kana
Tar bhitre aachhe
Tamar lagi.

Tame kenta dakuchha
Pher kahake
Aaru kie asikari
Khujideba kenu
Tumke tume ni khujle.

Muin khujuchhe mate
Dekhuchha ki nain
Khuja tume tumke
Jie jahake paeba aaga
Kaheba karuthila kana
Ni pauthilabele.

English version; -

Everything is here

Everything is within you
If you find these out
You are really the son of your father

You are the world
Crores of worlds are there
Within you

Search out
The seas
And all others
Are there only for you

Why are you calling others
Who is there to come and
Search you out
If you are not searching yourself

[...] Read more

poem by Gajanan Mishra
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Taki Tha

E phirphirimane kentausat heikari
kindruchan dekha ta
Dekha ta bhursakirah mane pasikari Gharbhitarke
guda karmu balichan.
han bala jenta jenta kahi kahi
galabelkae mun ni kaheba kua ke kichu
Aaru kahela baele barluti baggudanu bagchuamane
betinela bagir betinele ni kaheba mte kichu.
asur heu ki parur am kasi gute bi ni aasi
e amar gachhe aaru ladi heiche khali patar.
Tumar balatta bada sutar hele paske gale marsi lath
Han balata khucha kahuche sonurian mita.
Aaru jen mankara katha ni kahela ken hemane
kahuchan taki mtha
Takitha mahanadi khaend aaelatak.

poem by Gajanan Mishra
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1984

Someday they wont let you, now you must agree
The times they are a-telling, and the changing isnt free
Youve read it in the tea leaves, and the tracks are on tv
Beware the savage jaw
Of 1984
Theyll split your pretty cranium, and fill it full of air
And tell that youre eighty, but brother, you wont care
Youll be shooting up on anything, tomorrows never there
Beware the savage jaw
Of 1984
Come see, come see, remember me?
We played out an all night movie role
You said it would last, but I guess we enrolled
In 1984 (who could ask for more)
1984 (who could ask for mor-or-or-or-ore)
(mor-or-or-or-ore)
Im looking for a vehicle, Im looking for a ride
Im looking for a party, Im looking for a side
Im looking for the treason that I knew in 65
Beware the savage jaw
Of 1984
Come see, come see, remember me?
We played out an all night movie role
You said it would last, but I guess we enrolled
In 1984 (who could ask for more)
1984 (who could ask for mor-or-or-or-ore)
(mor-or-or-or-ore)
1984
1984
1984 (mor-or-or-or-ore)
1984
1984 (mor-or-or-or-ore)
1984

song performed by David Bowie
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Confessio Amantis. Explicit Liber Quintus

Incipit Liber Sextus

Est gula, que nostrum maculavit prima parentem
Ex vetito pomo, quo dolet omnis homo
Hec agit, ut corpus anime contraria spirat,
Quo caro fit crassa, spiritus atque macer.
Intus et exterius si que virtutis habentur,
Potibus ebrietas conviciata ruit.
Mersa sopore labis, que Bachus inebriat hospes,
Indignata Venus oscula raro premit.

---------------------------------- -------------------------------------------------

The grete Senne original,
Which every man in general
Upon his berthe hath envenymed,
In Paradis it was mystymed:
Whan Adam of thilke Appel bot,
His swete morscel was to hot,
Which dedly made the mankinde.
And in the bokes as I finde,
This vice, which so out of rule
Hath sette ous alle, is cleped Gule;
Of which the branches ben so grete,
That of hem alle I wol noght trete,
Bot only as touchende of tuo
I thenke speke and of no mo;
Wherof the ferste is Dronkeschipe,
Which berth the cuppe felaschipe.
Ful many a wonder doth this vice,
He can make of a wisman nyce,
And of a fool, that him schal seme
That he can al the lawe deme,
And yiven every juggement
Which longeth to the firmament
Bothe of the sterre and of the mone;
And thus he makth a gret clerk sone
Of him that is a lewed man.
Ther is nothing which he ne can,
Whil he hath Dronkeschipe on honde,
He knowth the See, he knowth the stronde,
He is a noble man of armes,
And yit no strengthe is in his armes:
Ther he was strong ynouh tofore,
With Dronkeschipe it is forlore,
And al is changed his astat,
And wext anon so fieble and mat,
That he mai nouther go ne come,
Bot al togedre him is benome
The pouer bothe of hond and fot,

[...] Read more

poem by John Gower
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Taet

Pachas degla
sorsutar nain rahebar
god taltalala
thartharla hat
kain kainta aink nain disbar
gaintsabu chitkopotka
khaila baele nain jirbar
aaru hagamuta.
kentakari nachsan
kain karba janikari
pakharghare achhekie
kain karba janikari
kashi hela ki nain ganita
udla ki nain bel
kain sinema lagichhe
janikari bhi bhaida nain
nain kaha kichhi
nain lagibara jhumra
muin cheyichhen heta bhi nunhese
mte nain pachhrana
kahelata heba ki nain hue.
muin khula rakhichhen taet
jiba aasbar lukarthanu
sunmibalikari kainkainta
jenta mate nain subhe.

poem by Gajanan Mishra
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I Am A Dreamer

Plz God be with me ezindleni zomnyama
Ngiyazi nginezono kodwa ngicela ubenami
God 10 years back we were dying from u-makazine
But manje sekuyithina sifela ebafazini
Emanyaleni
Wat worse awubhekeleli ngisho abantu abesebunzimeni
Abahlala sonke isikhathi bese mthandazweni
Besho ubaba osezulwini
Lot of children are dying from aids
Wat worse they got it from abantu abandala
Amanyala amanyala, lalela lana

God iam a dreamer
God iam a dreamer
God iam a dreamer
God iam a dreamer

Why God I have to die ngisasemncane kanje
Why God I have to experience this pain ngisase mncane kanje
Ngikhule kanzima kanje

God iam a dreamer
Plz be with me

Ukube kusase mandulo
Ngabe ngithi letha izazi zifafazele ulwazi
With an addition of uswazi
Sesikhathele ukuchitheka kwaleli ngazi
God just right nw iam watching my
Dream drain away by the rain into the drain
Only one thing is left is the pain
Not just the pain that hurt
But the pain that can lead to the damage of brain

God iam a dreamer

poem by Thokozani Magagula
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Sang Pujaan

Dia terus saja memandangmu
Gadis yang melihat dari atas jendela
Dan gadis yang berpapasan di jalan
Dia jelas-jelas mengagumimu
Gadis pembuat kue
Dan gadis anak penjahit
Tapi mungkin kau tak menyadarinya
Hatimu begitu dingin dan acuh
Dia pasti mengincarmu
Gadis putri tuan tanah
Dan gadis penyanyi bar itu
Dia juga diam-diam mencintaimu
Gadis pemalu yang tak sanggup memandangmu
Dan gadis sahabat yang ada di dekatmu
Tapi mungkin kau tak peduli
Hatimu sangat dingin dan tak tersentuh

Siapakah dia yang akan kau ajak ke pesta?
Siapakah dia yang akan kau ajak berdansa?
Gadis yang cantikkah atau biasa saja
Siapakah dia yang akan kau pilih?
Siapakah dia yang mencuri perhatianmu?
Gadis yang ceriakah atau gadis yang lembut
Seisi kota begitu ingin tahu tentangmu
Tapi kau masih saja berjalan dengan santai
Mengapa kau begitu mempesona setiap gadis?
Mengapa tak kau pilih salah satu saja?
Gadis yang kau kenal baik atau gadis yang dijodohkan
Berilah kesempatan pada para gadis untuk mendapatkanmu
Juga beri kesempatan para pria untuk mendapat gadis
Bila tak juga mencari seisi kota akan menjadi gila
Dia yang mencintaimu akan menyelamatkanmu
Dia yang kau cintai akan menyelamatkan kami semua!

poem by Maria Sudibyo
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Ugly Irl

Ken: Wanna go for a ride
Barbie: Sure Ken
Ken: Well forget it
Barbie:
Im and ugly girl,
My face makes you hurl,
Sad i have it,
I should fag it,
Acne everywhere,
Unwanted facial hair,
Im a realation,
To Frankinstiens creation.
Ken:
Your so ugly,
You disgust me.
Barbie:
Im a bad homely girl,
All alone in the wolrd,
Im as flat as a board,
Thin and lanky,
Ken:
Your a dog and a troll,
Were you hit by a train,
Wont go near you cos your breath is skanky.
Barbie:
Dont get touched,
Im afraid,
Cos guys say,
"A man i saw."
Im and ugly girl,
My face makes you hurl,
Sad i have it,
I should fag it,
Acne everywhere,
Unwanted facial hair,
Im a realation,
To Frankinstiens creation.
Ken:
Your so ugly,
You disgust me.
Barbie:
Boo Hoo Hoo Yeah
Ken:
Your so ugly,
You disgust me.
Oh Ooh Oh Ooh
Barbie:
Oh, lets go out and have some fun!
Ken:
Im sorry but your to damn ugly!

[...] Read more

song performed by Weird Al Yankovic
Added by Lucian Velea
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1984/do Do

Someday they wont let you, now you must agree
The times they are a-telling, and the changing isnt free
Youve read it in the tea leaves, the tracks are on tv
Beware the savage jaw
Of 1984
Theyll break your pretty cranium, and fill it full of air
And tell that youre eighty, but lover you wont care
Youll be shooting up this huge world, like tomorrows wasnt there
Beware the savage jaw
Of 1984
(come see, come see, remember me? )
We played out an all night movie role
You said it would last, but I guess weve grown
In 1984 (who could ask for more)
1984 (who could ask for more)
Now we can talk in confidence
Did you guess that weve been done wrong
Lies jumped the queue to be first in line
Such a shameless design
He thinks hes well screened from the man at the top
Its a shame that his children disagree
They cooly decide to sell him down the line
Daddys brainwashing time
Hes a do do, no no didnt hear it from me
Hes a do do, no no didnt hear it from me
She doesnt recall her blessed childhood out of yore
When a unit was a figure not a she
When lovers chose each other seems the perks are due
Another memo to screw
Shes a do do, no no didnt hear it from me
Shes a do do, no no didnt hear it from me
Can you wipe your nose my child without them slotting in your file a photograph
Will you sleep in fear tonight wake to find the scorching light of neighbour jim
Come to, turn you in
But the do do, no no, didnt hear it from me
Another do do, no no, didnt hear it from me
Another do do, no no, didnt hear it from me
Another do do, no no, didnt hear from me
Come see, come see, remember me?
We played out an all night movie role
You said it would last, but I guess we enrolled
In 1984 (who could ask for more)
1984 (who could ask for mor-or-or-or-ore)
(mor-or-or-or-ore)
1984
1984
1984 (mor-or-or-or-ore)
1984
1984 (mor-or-or-or-ore)
1984

[...] Read more

song performed by David Bowie
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Temora - Book VII

ARGUMENT.

This book begins about the middle of the third night from the opening of the poem. The poet describes a kind of mist, which rose by night from the Lake of Lego, and was the usual residence of the souls of the dead, during the interval between their decease and the funeral song. The appearance of the ghost of Fillan above the cave where his body lay. His voice comes to Fingal on the rock of Cormul. The king strikes the shield of Trenmor, which was an infallible sign of his appearing in arms himself. The extraordinary effect of the sound of the shield. Sul-malla, starting from sleep, awakes Cathmor. Their affecting discourse. She insists with him to sue for peace; he resolves to continue the war. He directs her to retire to the neighboring valley of Lona, which was the residence of an old Druid, until the battle of the next day should be over. He awakes his army with the sound of his shield. The shield described. Fonar, the bard, at the desire of Cathmor, relates the first settlement of the Fir-bolg in Ireland, under their leader Larthon. Morning comes. Sul-malla retires to the valley of Lona. A lyric song concludes the book.

From the wood-skirted waters of Lego ascend, at times, gray-bosomed mists; when the gates of the west are closed, on the sun's eagle eye. Wide, over Lara's stream, is poured the vapor dark and deep: the moon, like a dim shield, lay swimming through its folds. With this, clothe the spirits of old their sudden gestures on the wind, when they stride, from blast to blast, along the dusky night. Often, blended with the gale, to some warrior's grave, they roll the mist a gray dwelling to his ghost, until the songs arise.

A sound came from the desert; it was Conar, king of Inis-fail. He poured his mist on the grave of Fillan, at blue-winding Lubar. Dark and mournful sat the ghost, in his gray ridge of smoke. The blast, at times, rolled him together; but the form returned again. It returned with bending eyes, and dark winding of locks of mist.

It was dark. The sleeping host were still in the skirts of night. The flame decayed, on the hill of Fingal; the king lay lonely on his shield. His eyes were half clothed in sleep: the voice of Fillan came. "Sleeps the husband of Clatho? Dwells the father of the fallen in rest? Am I forgot in the folds of darkness; lonely in the season of night?"

"Why dost thou mix," said the king, "with the dreams of my father? Can I forget thee, my son, or thy path of fire in the field? Not such come the deeds of the valiant on the soul of Fingal. They are not a beam of lightning, which is seen and is then no more. I remember thee, O Fillan! and my wrath begins to rise."

The king took his deathful spear, and struck the deeply-sounding shield: his shield, that hung high in night, the dismal sign of war. Ghosts fled on every side, and rolled their gathered forms on the wind. Thrice from the winding vales arose the voice of deaths. The harps of the bards, untouched, sound mournful over the hill.

He struck again the shield; battles rose in the dreams of his host. The wide-tumbling strife is gleaming over their souls. Blue-shielded kings descended to war. Backward-looking armies fly; and mighty deeds are half hid in the bright gleams of steel.

But when the third sound arose, deer started from the clefts of their rocks. The screams of fowl are heard in the desert, as each flew frightened on his blast. The sons of Selma half rose and half assumed their spears. But silence rolled back on the host: they knew the shield of the king. Sleep returned to their eyes; the field was dark and still.

No sleep was thine in darkness, blue-eyed daughter of Conmor! Sul-malla heard the dreadful shield, and rose, amid the night. Her steps are towards the king of Atha. "Can danger shake his daring soul?" In doubt, she stands with bending eyes. Heaven burns with all its stars.

Again the shield resounds! She rushed. She stopt. Her voice half rose. It failed. She saw him, amidst his arms, that gleamed to heaven's fire. She saw him dim in his locks, that rose to nightly wind. Away, for fear, she turned her steps. "Why should the king of Erin awake? Thou art not a dream to his rest, daughter of Inis-huna."

More dreadful rings the shield. Sul-malla starts. Her helmet fails. Loud echoes Lubar's rock, as over it rolls the steel. Bursting from the dreams of night, Cathmor half rose beneath his tree. He saw the form of the maid above him, on the rock. A red star, with twinkling beams, looked through her floating hair.

"Who comes through night to Cathmor in the season of his dreams? Bring'st thou aught of war? Who art thou, son of night? Stand'st thou before me, a form of the times of old? a voice from the fold of a cloud, to warn me of the danger of Erin?"

"Nor lonely scout am I, nor voice from folded cloud," she said, "but I warn thee of the danger of Erin. Dost thou hear that sound? It is not the feeble, king of Atha, that rolls his signs on night."

"Let the warrior roll his signs," he replied, "To Cathmor they are the sounds of harps. My joy is great, voice of night, and burns over all my thoughts. This is the music of kings, on lonely hills, by night; when they light their daring souls, the sons of mighty deeds! The feeble dwell alone, in the valley of the breeze; where mists lift their morning skirts, from the blue-winding streams."

"Not feeble, king of men, were they, the fathers of my race. They dwelt in the folds of battle, in their distant lands. Yet delights not my soul in the signs of death! Lie, who never yields, comes forth: O send the bard of peace!"

Like a dropping rock in the desert, stood Cathmor in his tears. Her voice came, a breeze on his soul, and waked the memory of her land; where she dwelt by her peaceful streams, before he came to the war of Conmor.

"Daughter of strangers," he said, (she trembling turned away,) "long have I marked thee in thy steel, young pine of Inis-huna. But my soul, I said, is folded in a storm. Why should that beam arise, till my steps return in peace? Have I been pale in thy presence, as thou bid'st me to fear the king? The time of danger, O maid, is the season of my soul; for then it swells a mighty stream, and rolls me on the foe.

"Beneath the moss-covered rock of Lona, near his own loud stream; gray in his locks of age, dwells Clonmal king of harps. Above him is his echoing tree, and the dun bounding of roes. The noise of our strife reaches his ear, as he bends in the thoughts of years. There let thy rest be, Sul-malla, until our battle cease. Until I return, in my arms, from the skirts of the evening mist, that rises on Lona, round the dwelling of my love."

A light fell on the soul of the maid: it rose kindled before the king. She turned her face to Cathmor, from amidst her waving locks. "Sooner shall the eagle of heaven be torn from the stream of his roaring wind, when he sees the dun prey before him, the young sons of the bounding roe, than thou, O Cathmor, be turned from the strife of renown. Soon may I see thee, warrior, from the skirts of the evening mist, when it is rolled around me, on Lona of the streams. While yet thou art distant far, strike, Cathmor, strike the shield, that joy may return to my darkened soul, as I lean on the mossy rock. But if thou shouldst fall, I am in the land of strangers; O send thy voice from thy cloud, to the midst of Inis-huna!"

"Young branch of green-headed Lumon, why dost thou shake in the storm? Often has Cathmor returned, from darkly rolling wars. The darts of death are but hail to me; they have often rattled along my shield. I have risen brightened from battle, like a meteor from a stormy cloud. Return not, fair beam, from thy vale, when the roar of battle grows. Then might the foe escape, as from my fathers of old.

"They told to Son-mor, of Clunar, who was slain by Cormac in fight. Three days darkened Son-mor, over his brother's fall. His spouse beheld the silent king and foresaw his steps in war. She prepared the bow, in secret, to attend her blue-shielded hero. To her dwelt darkness at Atha, when he was not there. From their hundred streams, by night, poured down the sons of Alnecma. They had heard the shield of the king, and their rage arose. In clanging arms, they moved along towards Ullin of the groves. Son-mor struck his shield, at times the leader of the war.

"Far behind followed Sul-allin, over the streamy hills. She was a light on the mountain, when they crossed the vale below. Her steps were stately on the vale, when they rose on the mossy hill. She feared to approach the king, who left her in echoing Atha. But when the roar of battle rose; when host was rolled on host, when Son-mor burnt, like the fire of heaven in clouds, with her spreading hair came Sul-allin, for she trembled for her king. He stopt the rushing strife to save the love of heroes. The foe fled by night; Clunar slept without his blood; the blood which ought to be poured upon the warrior's tomb.

"Nor rose the rage of Son-mor, but his days were silent and dark. Sul-allin wandered by her gray stream. with her tearful eyes. Often did she look on the hero, when he was folded in his thoughts. But she shrunk from his eyes, and turned her lone steps away. Battles rose, like a tempest, and drove the mist from his soul. He beheld with joy her steps in the hall, and the white rising of her hands on the harp."

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poem by James Macpherson
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