Luyện nghe bài hát Veshengro

Moon of the berries is to clay
Bavol the wind on the whale's way
for Veshengro, oak ash and may
I not flash the day glance on the strong
shield
Nor yet the moon on the frightened man
her sweet peace ere she rests on the
of God
With the nutrnegs and oak-apples of her
That counts the praying
Who cradles earth and in the hollow of her hand

I was a wasp on a nettled
Ten thousand brothers in a nest of fungus
And every sopping apple its cider sweet for my thin tongue

I was a swineherd at the court of
I wore the coat of patches with beneath the stars
Sang at the black of Ain
I baked sweet pastries for the Quenn of
I hid my alchemy beneath the stone of
at the post my boiling brain
Made of my eyes

The mystery of it is not revealed
We not clear but only with hope and fear
And the pomp of crime, and the of the time

I was a monk repelled by a woman's
I in Darwin's ship, a mouse that gnawed the grain
by the cook on one dark day
I have with the Thames in much sweeter times
And with the Medway where she her waves

The snake-weed is hissing the of the morn
The mountains are where Albion is born
The light are gathering where Horus is shown
for Veshengro. oak ash and thorn.