! AET - Lyrics - Their Voice - Michaela Macha !

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Their Voice
(© 2004 Michaela Macha)

"Sing us a song !" shouted the men
As the eve before battle began.
The Skald stirred the strings, and once again
Of their heroes sang to the clan.

And sparks from the fire danced on his lyre,
His words kindled courage aflame;
Voice and harp rang clear and sharp
Like their blades when the morning came;

And singing they went their foes to meet,
To the rhythm of sword upon shield,
And the rhythm of blows and thundering feet,
Till the enemy had to yield -

And round the Skald cried a joyous throng:
"A song yet, a song !"

In the hall they built on the land they won
His lays were of love and lore,
And a wonder it was that he wielded the words
As well as his weapon before.

Their bounty now came from fields of corn
Not from battlefields as before,
For feasting and drinking they raised the horn,
Not for the signals of war.

The Skald´s voice rose rich and mellow like mead;
The maidens were smiling warm
When he praised their tresses, golden like wheat
Or the wealth on the ring-givers´ arm.

So happy they were, they asked all along:
"A song still, a song !"

The youths for fortune the seas would roam,
Their sails being scattered like leaves
By the autumn wind, which those at home
Heard sighing around the eaves.

A tapestry woven of memory´s twine
At times the Skald would unfold
And gather old glory like grapes into wine
With deeds of valor retold.

The old fighters felt suddenly unrest
And glanced at their swords on the wall;
But the women sighed, and thought of the west
Where their sons had not come from this fall.

But still they bid, when the hours grew long:
"A song, one more song."

Like tides of sea passed the seasons; a day
Of winter shone cold on the coast.
The hall folks´ hair was grizzled and gray,
And the Skald´s was white as frost.

He sang of kin who´d come no more,
Lost long to sea or mound,
Whose ships now sailed a stranger shore
By unknown waters bound.

That his voice had a catch, and a shimmer his eye
Was maybe the smoke from the fire;
But when his wizened hands stopped play,
A string did snap on his lyre -

And he said in a silence that lasted too long:
"No song, no more song."

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