A Tell of Muskrat-King about fishing in Friday

 

I saw the heaven in steely warbles, and stones on the oozy bed,

And arrows of ablets, which fleshes are hasty, flashed in a shore wave.

Also there’re the sea and foamy crests on ridges of roaring billows,

A mossy cross is in ‘e embrace of willow, which roots gave me the roof.

 

In the lands o’er the sea, where people have the wings,

My brother lived – he was a king.

And looking at frigates rounding ‘e welkin,

I thought and cried for him.

 

My brother with face of bird, brother with thumbs of maiden

Brother of mine.

Brother, I dream a sea, a chant of waves is blacken.

Brother of mine.

 

Kindless morning an old-man learnt me of the fish havin’ oil is arcane,

And by bloody oath I swore by evil things to taste it nature grain.

And, looking an eval elm, the old-man fists to parchment sheets

“Bait for the fish is created of an eye, of the eye of the king of the birds!”

 

My brother, thy cloak is black, brother, thy trunk is white,

My brother, my cloak is white, brother, my trunk is black,

Brother of mine.

My brother, thy cross is in a ring, brother, my ring embrace a cross,

My brother, my cross is in a ring, brother, thy ring embrace a cross,

Brother of mine.

 

I went out at rocks, bowed and curved, and my scream shook the skies.

It means the brother cried the brother to slaughter to rip his eyes.

And a tempest rose, clapping wings, so my brother had come to call.

We sprinkled the rocks with sacrifice blood and hided for sights of the Gods.

 

My brother, thy sight is black, brother, thy scream is white,

My brother, my sight is white, brother, my scream is black.

Brother of mine.

Brother, where’s thy knife? Here’s mine! Brother, here’s my knife. Where’s thine?

Brother, where’s thy knife? Here’s mine! Here’s my knife, brother, mine.

Brother of mine.

 

There was a fight, and the sun obscured with a black chain of clouds.

I didn’t know, what kind of Force we awaked by our blades’ glare.

I didn’t know, what kind of Force we awaked by our blades’ glare.

And the battle was boiling and babbling ablow the black chain of clouds!

 

Which semi-ghostly shadow curls at the East?

Which crystal ways broke the days and nights?

Who touched the sky and pierced a sole with perch?

To whom the Sun and Moon solve as joss of breast?

 

Lo! ‘Tis forthcoming in winds of autumn storms at a barge.

And three apples burn on the eye, which turns inward.

Lo! ‘Tis involving by our fight rule his way in height large.

And four apples burn on the eye, which looks outward.

 

And blood-stained brother crashed to my feet, and rage birds’ scream

Lash over the stone, on what the stonkered one’s cooled, which eye levies on me.

And I dubbed the eye and dropped under the rock, where waves were turning by ring.

I was being in luck – I caught the fish of the human strange face on it.

 

I tasted the fish, and cloaks had fallen – I saw through the day haze

How scarlet knight was moving across the sky, his eye had been claiming to me.

I threw up the palms but saw through the hands. So I pierced by face

With four apples in bloody and scary circle, by on blazing ring.

 

My thoughts were burned, and memory stopped, and there I’d gone on ways.

I was going to north, and a bird hovered, and my sight streamed like azoth.

I dreamed by the roots of fallen spruces, and I ate the lingberries and honey of bees,

I’d inwoven a strain cry of crake over ripples across the sunset moss.

 

And in the land of endless ice and dawn, where tears is freezing on the lids of eyes,

I sing the brother who slaughters the one for the fish, which food is the eyes.