How beautiful they are,
The lordly ones
Who dwell in the hills,
In the hollow hills.
They have faces like flowers
And their breath is the wind
That blows over grass in showers
Filled with dewy clover.
Their limbs are more white
Than shafts of moonlight:
They are more fleet than hound and hare,
Than the March wind’s sweet airs.
They laugh and are glad
And are terrible:
When their lances shake and shiver,
Every green reed quivers.
How beautiful they are,
The lordly ones
Who dwell in the hills,
In the hollow hills.
misterkaki 