None of our people knows,
But still the wind flows
Into the dark it follows,
Down the stream, by the trees,
All singing in a choir of three,
Inspired by the old Gods be.
But if in the dark forest lost
And into the night you wonder the cost
Of the life worth to still be lived
And all the knowledge yet to be seized,
And the faith to be lost in thee,
The Gods all silent by late fee
On this life bestowed on me.
Worry not, young one,
The trees and branches will protect you, son,
From all the judgement of beasts and men,
Not that different inside their den
Of evil intentions and worse doings,
Creating all kinds of ruins
Motivated by greed bred in their loins.
So, blessed be you, my children,
Do this which you're bidden,
To expect the end on another year
And safely cross the bridge without a sear,
To a new life in a new day,
Without falling in the mistake of being vain,
Say farewell to this night of the end, Samhain,
