Song of Sienja
On the golden grasses
Equine thunder passes
In the land of wheat,
Cider and molasses.
Upon the wooden road,
Remove my traveled load
Within the sweet-smelling
Sienjan tavern abode.
Therein greets me a host
Of smiles and brown toast
Of honey and laughter
And stringed music to boast.
Bright eye and sturdy hand –
The people of this land;
Quick to love and vengeance:
The Sienjan woman and man.
Lo, Tielemark!
Kingdom of stone and wood.
Your log is hewn with axe,
Beam and pillar’d building.
Raptors soar above you,
Aloft on outstretched wing.
Alas! Alone you dwell –
The Hill and Valley King.
Among the Sienjan vales
and hills are many tales;
To share is to befriend,
And lack a friend who fails.
