Winds of One Thousand Winters - Mael Mórdha

Clouds darken and dampen My spirit

As My brow bows low

While My eyes see only earth

The engraining of furrows on My soul

Feels as though the winds of one thousand winters

Have hacked away whatever life existed

Within My now battered link

To the world of Donn

He calls

But not for Me to follow

He calls out

Storms of support for My cause

He calls out storms

Which feed But dying embers

That grow slowly from the ash

Which had threatened to engulf

And rise

Rise to flames

Which burn

Which burn the dead wood

Onward, yes onward comes the bellowing cries

Which resounds through the hills

As the stag roars in triumph

Once again he will rise, a Rí­ of the South

And with him will rise the hope of the Gael

Embrace the new with purpose and vigor

Revive the old and condemn Gall Glassa