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<div style="background:#fff;border:#bbb dashed 1px;padding:5px"><a href="http://en.citatepedia.ro/comments.php?id=524215" style="color:#000;text-decoration:none"><div style="margin:10px 0"><strong>A Season Of Growth: The Swan Road</strong></div><div style="margin:10px 0">Jarl (Old English eorl Earl) ‘a man of noble birth’; hence used as the title of hereditary Norse and Danish chieftains; later, of the royal liege-man next in rank to the king whom they followed. An old Norse and Danish chieftain or under-king.</div><div style="margin:10px 0">Remember chill child channelling infamous ice, <br>listening intently as if awaiting what; <br>among helm heights of wind blown crags? <br>Straining to catch each Wodan word, dripping; <br>dripping slowly, from thrive thawing ice.<br>Grim grain weathered wheat waiting; <br>for birth bright born sun warmth water.<br>Hopelessly longing for season of growth<br>to burst forth heralded by ye breath of spring.</div><div style="margin:10px 0">Jarl lifts face before wenian leave taking wind <br>to hail heavens these heraldic words Jarl cries.<br>“Mine ancestors have fought bleed died; <br>under eal earth’s parched foreign skies.  eal A.S. all<br>Froth looting alien plain; raid memory; <br>was locked in all descendant brains.<br>Awaiting chill coming ravenous rains; <br>for raid warriors who draft row survived, <br>with potent power staining scarlet bled skies.<br>For mine blood is bile blood; warming warriors; <br>bile blood river tide flows in mine veins; unlike <br>mildew blood; sheaf shed in Anglo-Saxon heirs.<br>Odour oozing mortality hangs in mist breath air; <br>from sterile peace to fertile revenge plough strife.<br>Only death; grants release from slave; thrall life.<br>Chieftain boiling blood burning; warrior skald king; skald Old Norse poet<br>left furrows littered within earth locked Danegeld.<br>Guarded within sacred sealed longship barrows.<br>By ye will of Nordic Gods we build we fight<br>by norther stars Dragon longships sail err night.”</div><div style="margin:10px 0">Then Jarl turned in one swift movement; back <br>to ye ships which rode stone anchors lightly, waiting; <br>to fly with wind while riding roaring oceanic waves.<br>Back to ye gathering place where assembled each crew.<br>Jarl’s eyes were as eager as any raw blood lust youth; <br>yet as fierce as cornered wolf held at pierce point bay.<br>Like ye beautiful eyes of ye battle trained wolfhound; <br>which stood ever ready upon shield blade guard side.<br>Locks which fell, to muscled shoulders, were still golden; <br>as was wolf-beard, yet mesmeric face, was weathered stern.<br>When he laughed, it was like ye soaring, ghoul haunting; <br>cry of gulls on bewitched wing, guarding territory seashore.<br>Each wrist was rank, covered guarded, by a golden bracelet; <br>a handwidth wide, at his throat bindan, a band of wrought gold.<br>On scourge sword arm, Jarl wore famed bracelet, ye great red <br>dragon; which gleamed transient light, cast in feeble sunlight; <br>upon ye metallic mating, marking tribute, copper married gold.<br>Crafted by Norse master craftsman, an artisan, without equal. <br>Chain-mail dragon scaled body, life merge weaven, cunningly coiled; <br>about ye iron muscle of Jarl’s, blade thrust bite, death blood arm.</div><div style="margin:10px 0">Jarl now stood before raid gathered crews to speak.<br>His hands raw boned strong; like ye fist of iron; he ruled with.<br>Beneath ye woolen tunic; ye chain linked shirt; ye scars fell.<br>Always about same places; where enemy blade; opening lay.<br>As viking strode furiously; to be first; within hunted battle foe.<br>For warriors who go to battle; many raid seasons; following.<br>Summer succeeding summer; bore ye bite; of enemy blade.<br>Eagle eyes with wisdom; cold indifference; to pain or spirits; <br>scanned ye viking; with glacial weighing; ice crevice measure; <br>of all weakness encountered; which set teeth; of teething on edge.<br>Suffering within himself; ritual warrior berserks; left him unmoved.</div><div style="margin:10px 0">“In ye beauty of bare swan road fiords; ye Gods; <br>have left us ravenous; we hunger; month winter.<br>In ye fat; warm lamb lands; of Christ On Ye Cross; <br>is much meat; slaughter sport; had with sword game.<br>Always ye unknown is before us! It will ever be so! <br>Waits to swallow sheep; not equal to be blood wader; <br>men. Who could not face; what men; have ever sought.<br>Now is ye time; for dragon ships; to sail swan road seas.<br>Like ye wolf winter’s teeth; has been hard; on barren bones.<br>Like ye wolf winter’s bite; has left us savage; starve lean.<br>Like ye wolf we hunt; alone in dragon; row wolf pack; <br>we ravish; rich green river feed; plunder pastures.<br>For us it is everything; or nothing; ever must it be so! <br>For are we not hungry; hungry; like ye winter wolves? <br>Else to summer; on homebound, farm crop labour shores; <br>we grow weak next winter; when food, be season short.<br>Lacking rich lands; fertile loam soils; for crops or beast; <br>we must raid fight; for number to increase; to survive.<br>Not even before ye eye; of ye fierce rage; north sea storm; <br>or ye ocean’s; own deep hunger; can our own be calm.”<br> <br>total 80 lines to be continued... </div><div style="margin:10px 0">this Viking Epic poem, had the 1st to 5th stanzas posted by 7.10.2010. <br></div><div style="margin:10px 0"><br /></a><br />poem by <a href="http://en.citatepedia.ro/by.php?a=Terence+George+Craddock">Terence George Craddock</a><div class=q>
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