Bienvenue dans le Sanctuaire virtuel de la Déesse irlandaise

Archives de janvier, 2017

Une lettre à Morrigan

J’ai le plaisir de partager aujourd’hui avec vous un magnifique poème en langue anglaise (qui ne devrait pas être trop illisible avec googletrad) de l’un de suivants du groupe. Merci infiniment à Oliver Leôn Hêrês d’avoir partagé son texte avec nous !


« For the Morrigan, January 26th 2017.

You wash the wounds of warriors,
Goddess, washing away the wine stains
Of blood and carnage. You know
The dreads of war inside and outside
The heart of a soldier.

You’ve seen my wounds and can name them.
You’ve seen my scars and touched them.
You’ve known my war and can count the fallen.

In your majesty, you bring victory and strength.
I praise you in your sovereignty and thank you
For recognizing mine, my crown with
All of its scars and hard-won wisdom.
You peel off my armor and ask for
Honesty and trust. You scrap the gore
From my fingernails and knuckles.

You know my throat still aches from
Laughing (I outlived him), that mad
Mad laughter of surviving the worst
My enemy had offered. You know
My eyes still look for him, wary of
Another fight, another death. You
Know the throne of my heart was shaken
To the core but remains unbroken.

You pitch the bloody bath water
Outside the war tent. You wrap me
In the cloak of a victor, the survivor’s
Gift. You clean my sword, shield, and
Spears as I sit wearily at your feet
By the fire.

I can see wyrd in the flames, in
My hands, and your eyes, phantom queen.
You know a champion’s fate. You
Know war for yourself. When the army
Packs up and goes home, who
Cleans up the battlefield?
Who mourns the dead?
Who holds your hands as you keen?

In this loss, we support each other,
Honouring the dead in our hearts.
Still we breathe and celebrate life.
We laugh, joke, and smile.
O you, the goddess of ordeals are also
A goddess of healing, of easing pain
After the long fight.

In your raven flight, you keep
Watch over me, as I shoulder my
Weapons and turn towards the true
Heart of my home. You see the fate
Lines that guide me after battle. You
Know the winding way home, that
Old wyrd I walk as a wounded warrior.

May my injuries heal wholly and
My scars knit cleanly. May I find
Peace of heart after this most brutal
War. May you know victory everlasting.
May you know the happiness of
The truthful warrior’s heart. May
We both carry and know home
In our hearts. Hail the Morrigan! »