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The world grows cold, the year grows old,
And even hope seems gone,
The trolls upset all that we get,
When will we see the dawn?

When clan and kin lie safe within,
The fires of Yule will burn,
And robed in white and crowned with light,
Sunna will return.

The nights so long, the world so wrong,
The wolf’s howl chills the air,
So much to do, and what is true?
Why should we even care?

When clan and kin lie safe within,
The Wild Hunt rides the skies
And robed in white and crowned with light,
Sunna will arise.

© Diana Paxson

Diana is member of The Troth and Gyðja of the seidh group Hrafnar.
 

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