Evenings of Damask

The evenings of Damask are falling The youth of truth chest Feeds a starling With his heart. A chosen man begged by the wayside A horse came soon and died before him And said eat. The icy claws of earth are crawling Upon my baby`s brow and calling Please come home. The boy unlike the man was smiling For gulleys, streams and hills would hide him Like a swan. A vagabond, a weaver warrior Produced a loom, a cheese and chopper And said choose. My sandled feet are fleet like water I kiss the limbs is Earthess daughter A little tree.