Go Thou, Long-Legs

©Bok

        

Go thou, Long-Legs,
go up the windey way.
Go from the white way where your mother made you.
See how the nearing sun
calls to your feary eyes,
calls to the blood in your high head,
long-legs.

Go thou, sea-child,
way up the windy way.
Go from the still way where your mother found you.
See how the little moon
rides on your shoulder,
chilling the blood in your sad head,
sea child.

Go thou, strong-hand,
go to the twisty tree.
Break him, bind him: tell him his master.
Soon from the high tree
building another tree,
building a tree for another god,
strong-hand.

(Soonday, then:
leave the twisty tree alone.)

Go thou, white-head,
go from the cold bed.
Go from the slow wave where your mother left you.
See how the old sun,
sun and the terried moon
run from the might of your reaching,
white-head.

(Sila is not gone away, sea-child,
wind-child.
Sila is not hid from you.)

Come thou, sea-child,
home from the feary lands,
home from the burnt sky where your mother sent you.
Sila is here, child,
all o'er the windy world:
all, and in peace, and forever still,
sea-child.

Go Thou, Long-Legs is recorded on the CD Seal Djiril's Hymn