An elder tongue once told me, you are my delight
The island knew, for the earth never forgets
My own tongue found herself ******* in knots
Will I find these shores again
The isle of the blest
A cathedral for souls, still fighting without breath
The ale will speak, through the mouth of a drunken fool
You wait, on deity foresaken shores, for a mist that will never rise
The sand knows more than you, yet the salt water draws it out beyond hearing
The monsters in the loch sing prayers so ancient your tongue would tremble at the rasp of their words
Will you take your chances with a ******* son of the gods
Singing a gaelic hymn for the nords
Is your thirst quenched by hel fire in the fjords
The old country knows you, to her you shall return
To look in her eyes, inlet of wisdom
Her emerald secrets stare back at you
The cairns of the kelts are sturdy still
Will the faeries bless you
It is a fool's blessing too
Feather your tongue, so your words find flight
This is irish magic, kept in the stars at night
The title translates from Gaelic meaning, you delight me.
