01-14-2018, 04:10 AM
The Lord Ravens Are Not At Home
My child, what are you looking for,
behind the door watching?
I am looking for my brothers—
they have certainly forgotten me
while playing some game.
The door was shut. I accidentally
heard some people saying
what had befallen my brothers
was the will of heaven:
the sun was too hot and terrible,
and devoured little children.
My parents were careful not to mention
I was to blame,
their dear little daughter;
birth had only been the innocent cause.
The moon is too cold—
awful and malicious.
Cut off one of my little fingers,
put it in the door;
keep the secret no longer.
I smell, I smell the flesh of men!
I hear a whirring of wings
and a rushing through the air—
the lord ravens are flying home.
My child, what are you looking for,
behind the door watching?
I am looking for my brothers—
they have certainly forgotten me
while playing some game.
The door was shut. I accidentally
heard some people saying
what had befallen my brothers
was the will of heaven:
the sun was too hot and terrible,
and devoured little children.
My parents were careful not to mention
I was to blame,
their dear little daughter;
birth had only been the innocent cause.
The moon is too cold—
awful and malicious.
Cut off one of my little fingers,
put it in the door;
keep the secret no longer.
I smell, I smell the flesh of men!
I hear a whirring of wings
and a rushing through the air—
the lord ravens are flying home.