The Birth of Life

Weighty clouds hover above the ground and winds swiftly move around. It is branches that bend over in vain, giving nothing but helplessness plain. Far can the warmth of the womb follow a looming blue – having all that a mortal foresees. Within the cold is where heat is born, vigorously seeking its wounded spot. Break the slumber of your dream, oh fellow law, cosmos is where resting reassures! Of those weakened by a darkness grim, there is a more of a lovely spring. Waters of life shall pour into the trough, and rivers will bear an ancestor proud. For it is the dying of the child that brings another in a time; sacredly seeded with the seed of the sound. Winter comes and leaves fall, and mothers have their beloved gone. Longer not than the decay of frost, returns the Sun with its warmth force. And mountains and streams and pastures green; all of this is your wonderful sea. Below the cliff up in the sky – a wanderer stands and smiles. His hood tall, his coat long, covering all from chin to toe. He sends greetings of a blessing sound as children play happily on the ground. Hammers forge armors and swords – a battle awaits – and warriors mount frightening chords. The cycle always repeats itself, making it bend what has once already bent.

The World Tree is a page dedicated to preserve and promote the European culture and traditions in these times of darkness. Our posts cover various subjects, and you are most welcome to read them, and also follow us on Facebook and YouTube.

” You shall be friend
with your friend
and his friends;
but no man shall ever
be friend
with the friend of an enemy”
Hávamál

 

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