Robin Williamson - Veshengro lyrics

Moon of the berries is waning to clay Bavol the wind leap on the whale's way Sing for Veshengro, oak ash and may I will not flash the day glance on the strong King's shield Nor yet the moon glance on the frightened man Bring her sweet peace ere she rests on the Breast of God With the nutrnegs and oak-apples of her rosary That counts the praying sand Who cradles earth and water in the hollow of her hand I was a wasp on a nettled hill Ten thousand brothers in a nest of fungus paper And every sopping apple held its cider sweet for my thin tongue I was a swineherd at the court of Fionn I wore the coat of patches with Jalal beneath the stars Sang at the black court of Ain I baked sweet pastries for the Quenn of Spain I hid my alchemy beneath the stone of lies Burned at the post my boiling brain Made craters of my eyes The mystery of history it is not revealed We hear not clear but only with hope and fear And the pomp of crime, and the pride of the time I was a monk repelled by a woman's smell I sailed in Darwin's ship, a mouse that gnawed the grain Trapped by the cook on one dark day I have spoken with the Thames in much sweeter times And with the Medway where she rolls her waves The snake-weed is hissing the wind of the morn The mountains are mouthing where Albion is born The light rays are gathering where Horus is shown Sing for Veshengro, oak ash and thorn