What is that moving in the trees?
Its not something that everyone sees,
Am I possessed or gifted
To see the most beautiful girl ever.
So swiftly she's moving
As if there are no trees.
But what of those
That I see, but cannot pass through.
The hair swaying in the breeze,
So white as the lifeless soul.
The flowing white robe
Was whiter than the late autumn snow.
Now I could see her friends,
Gathering along the lake
Making a circle in the dark
Dancing, without rejoice, without notice.
On the lake shore,
Where the forest met the lake,
I could see 'alvringar',
With the grass flattened as a floor.
How beautifully they danced,
How contrasting they looked in the night,
With a pentangle over their heads
Protecting and securing from the foes.
With what happened I couldn't imagine,
Returning with morbid images,
I see my friends ageing
And me remaining flabbergasted!!
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