View source for Making of the Moon-Isles (book)

[[Category:Book]]
==The Making of the Moon-Isles ==
''Preserved and translated by Cheile-Ceol ''


The waves wash here <br>
Lap on shore <br>
Motion has polished the rocks <br>
And ground the sand <br>
If you look close <br>
And walk when the moons are dark <br>
Eluned will sometimes offer up a gift <br>
A piece of our fates among the sands -- <br>


Dark black glass <br>
Tumbled in the tides <br>
Cracked, but the edges worn smooth <br>
A piece of the Dragon's Moon <br>
Washed at your feet <br>
Cradled it in a nest of foam. <br>
  

You may think to take it <br>
You may think this treasure yours <br>
But Drogor considers it his -- <br>


The moon's bursting and falling down, <br>
Stirred our seas and Drogor swelled <br>
A beautiful storm! <br>
The walls of water plunged up as a fountain <br>
As if to replace the space of the Dragon's moon! <br>
The world shaken like a toddler's toy <br>
Waves sweeping over bounds, <br>
To clean the shoulders of this world. <br>
Drogor laughed!  Sweet splashing! <br>
Twas then the seas grew salty from the spice of dragon shell! <br>
The veil of water fell everywhere <br>
All the world tasted Drogor's draught <br>
All wet and seasoned with his delight, <br>
Til at last he summoned the sea <br>
Back to its beds. <br>


Touch not his treasure, <br>
Lest you stir his wrath. <br>
Let it lie for all to wonder. <br>
Let Eluned's fingers reach up again, <br>
Let her palm pluck it <br>
And return it to Drogor's depth <br>
For He will pursue the sailor who steals his shell, <br>
The collector who claims his carapace <br>
The wanderer who would have his winnings -- <br>
Nay, Traveler let that treasure lie. <br>


Behold the bit of what has formed our world... <br>
Fragments from afar: <br>
When the moon fell and carved the crater -- <br>
The moan of the moon's-mold our melody -- <br>
The spray, Eluned's sweet breath: <br>
We who dwell on its rim <br>
Rise each morning to behold <br>
The sun rise o'er our shell-shard sea-pearls <br>
Islands of the moon, beyond which Drogor dwells -- <br>
For Drogor has put them there to play upon <br>
There his storms are fiercest <br>
His delight most dreadful, <br>
There the old Searekker* himself, <br>
Seeks to stir his storms, <br>
Even the sheltered shrink. <br>


But still, the sea is the sand's-heaven -- <br>
It's hands a haven for me. <br>