In the oak night, in the land of rain
Red berries glisten on the floor.
The fire of their eyes is rolled within,
The burning magic of their call:
Do you want to see clearly
Through the mud and rain?
Do you want to speak clearly
In a land that’s lost its way?
They stand in line – two burning rows
And in between – a long dark road.
Do you see clearly?
Do you see the road to awe?
Do you see the distant banquet?
Will you drink the blood of the gods?
At the famed autumnal banquet
Will you drink from the flame lit horn
And return to speak clearly
Of this land’s eternal lore?
Their berries fall
In the dark oak night
Like rain before the dawn,
Before the dawning of the light.