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As branch of ice reached further outThe mighty raven pierced the cloud;He met while flying against wind’s courseA great grey owl, and asked him hoarse:
“Where were you when my lion fell?
Where were you when my wolf was slain?
I shall not hear that ringing bell,
The wind won’t hear them laugh again;
They won’t be fighting side by side
When new wars come, at turn of tide;
They shall not jest with playful grins
When darkness fades and all noise dims;
And no more gems in their mane will shine,
For life was taken from these sons of mine.”
“And what say you of my friend the hare,
Who left his home and his hills fair
To join a quest that was not his own;
Who, though wingless, has bravely flown;
Who faced an evil he could not name
Not for riches, glory or fame,
But to bring back home a raven fierce,
And whose cries now the clouds shall pierce?
For within him a fire was lit.
Your cruel words, they stung and bit,
But he would not give up on you,
Nor could he, as his heart knew.
But then your eyes grew far and dim,
As a river red took you from him.”
“Refrain from lie, oh owl of old,
For my words under the thrall of gold
Turned him away, to not come back.
My breath so weak, my body slack
Moved him to pity, and to ease my pain
Words not thought were said again.
He will not mourn my death or cry
For I don’t deserve his tears to dry.”
“Foolish raven, don’t you know
That what he planted will soon grow?
A mighty tree, to keep you close,
To remind all, both friends and foes
Of good, of bad, of time well spent,
For a mourning hare with his head bent.”
“Oh how I wish I could take back
My words, and deeds, and all heartbreak,
But I am now lost, and so is my kin.
Tell me, owl, what did it mean
That we should come so close to home
To fade so soon, and forever roam?”
The owl did not respond in kind,For he was weary of body and mind,But wolf and lion would never rest:And hearing them fight on which way was best,The raven joined them for one final quest.