I am the one who loves from under the skin of a falcon. I am the mother of the one who rises up for the sun. And when his work is done the black mare brings to him the skeleton of the sun, the gold is gone, of the sun, the gold is gone. Circle of the Gods, they stood around my good son. Brother's hand is the blind one, takes the heart blood. How could I not know the evil of that arrow? Made up of the one golden bough I let go. I am the one who cries alone. My tears on the branch be enthroned. Only the light of the snow will take me from my winter home down to the long ship that glows. The fire burns the season's ghost, of the sun, the gold is gone, of the sun, the gold is gone.
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