Its rocks melt and swim:
The secret they have kept
From the ancient nights of darkness
Flies like a bird.
What mourns?
Cualann’s secret flying,
A lost voice
In endless fields.
What rejoices?
My voice lifted praising thee.
Its rocks melt and swim:
The secret they have kept
From the ancient nights of darkness
Flies like a bird.
What mourns?
Cualann’s secret flying,
A lost voice
In endless fields.
What rejoices?
My voice lifted praising thee.