Shak

  • -hahnameh

    But but but …
    What about the queens?
    Well …
    Been talking to Brigid …
    Says maybe …
    The lady harper
    This time around …
    Well …
    Almost Imbolc again …
    The old hag? Will she be …
    Gone gone gone
    Replaced by
    Catrin
    The beauteous Finch

    And what says she, the old hag?

    From out across the centuries
    Come her shrill poem:

    “The maidens rejoice
    When May-day comes to them:
    For me, sorrow the share;
    I am wretched, I am an old hag.
    I hold no sweet converse.
    No wethers are killed for my wedding-feast,
    My hair is all but grey,
    The mean veil over it is no pity.
    I do not deem it ill
    That a white veil be on my head;
    Time was when cloths of every hue
    Bedecked my head as we drank good ale.”

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