P.M Quinns - The Oak's Song скачать в хорошем качестве

P.M Quinns - The Oak's Song

Adapted from a pretty old poem of mine, The Barren Oak (Mûgumo is the native term for the Oak in the Motherland). The Oak's Song Say ye not of the stalk oak, That 'tis her heart that broke. Twas her faith in the heath, When her roots shot beneath, Into nothing but fervid sand, Of the desolate wasteland. Twas her will that broke thenceforth, When her crown wafted to the north, And bowed to a wrecking dust storm. When her leafage withered out of form, Into a thing that resembles only sorrow. Say ye not ‘but she wert in her prime!’ For despair lurks in the corridors of time. For misery infests her nights, And by day the staring wights, Steals away the last of her hope, That a barren oak could cope, When neither a hummingbird, Nor an idle butterfly stirred, As she withered. ©P.M Quinns