Morrigan’s Harvest
When the Morrigan moves through the fields
Only she the white is seen at the sky
Single dark fogs fly across the heaven
and clothe the great Queen like a splendid robe.
When the Morrigan moves through the fields
She is bare, only her black hair covers her
Followed by a flock of crows
She strides through the world
The crows shriek hurries on ahead of her,
heralding of her harvest
When the Morrigan moves through the fields
She is Destroyess and Mistress of the world
One glance into her mirroring eyes
Leads you across without pain
Every burning sorrow she takes away
in her cool black boat.
Only she the white is seen at the sky
Single dark fogs fly across the heaven
and clothe the great Queen like a splendid robe.
When the Morrigan moves through the fields
She is bare, only her black hair covers her
Followed by a flock of crows
She strides through the world
The crows shriek hurries on ahead of her,
heralding of her harvest
When the Morrigan moves through the fields
She is Destroyess and Mistress of the world
One glance into her mirroring eyes
Leads you across without pain
Every burning sorrow she takes away
in her cool black boat.
Artwork: Louis le Brocquy Táin 'The Morrígan', 1969.
