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~ By Courtesy of Others ~
Infamous Sprig But a young sprig am I Watching the efforts of gods and men My life is lonely, my visitors few. Hark, a stranger is climbing my tree ! He is peering at me with a sneer. With a flick of the knife, I am cut free. We descend into the forest below. Never before had I dreamed. Will I be a rune stave? Or Will I be the handle of a great mans sword? I am stripped my twigs, bark and leaves. My maker and I have come to a hall. A contest of might Hammers, axes, spears and swords My maker bids the sightless brother of light. I am loose! Through the air I soar. I have pierced into the darkness of flesh. Pulled from gore and cast aside. Evil has fallen upon a little sprig such as me.
Oh, how I wish for wings to flee and hide! Now cursed and fated for ill fame ©
Thorfinn MacLeod Mistletoe: Franz Eugen Köhler, Köhler's Medizinal-Pflanzen, 1897 (detail). Public Domain. |