Honored companion:
When you return,
let us go down to yon forest,
as our hearts have yearned.
I know a girl of the green
bright balms and flowering hair;
when spring comes to the valley,
she will wait for you there.
As hunter shoots the stag,
so huntress strikes the lad's heart;
leaves crunch beneath their boots,
in crisp handhold they won't part.
Grass drinks the gold dew flood,
orange sun never wants to wane;
but far beyond the verdant wood,
a martial voice calls out your name.
So grasp your sword by hardened hilt,
and with pike upon your shoulder,
live not for the joys of life;
live but to grow older.
Then mount the hills with me,
cast aside your roving bow;
for ours is a life of misery,
and in summer we must go.
Jun 26, 2017
Jun 26, 2017 at 6:45 PM UTC
Honored companion:
When you return,
let us go down to yon forest,
as our hearts have yearned.
I know a girl of the green
bright balms and flowering hair;
when spring comes to the valley,
she will wait for you there.
As hunter shoots the stag,
so huntress strikes the lad's heart;
leaves crunch beneath their boots,
in crisp handhold they won't part.
Grass drinks the gold dew flood,
orange sun never wants to wane;
but far beyond the verdant wood,
a martial voice calls out your name.
So grasp your sword by hardened hilt,
and with pike upon your shoulder,
live not for the joys of life;
live but to grow older.
Then mount the hills with me,
cast aside your roving bow;
for ours is a life of misery,
and in summer we must go.
Updated November 5, 2018.
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