la tueûthie - the head of helier lyrics
the sacred mills grind ever on, the old one’s council spread
by the cleansed vessels of the eye who tend the sailors’ dead
to seek the well of slaughters’ secrets enraptured by the holy flame
the lord and lady watch the wreck of steed upon the sea
the ettin’s breath in k!lling*chants sets soul from body free
the white*robed goddess drags the dead which follow to the well
their ashen skins are made anew beneath her rising yell
the mother calls the risen dead into her darkened womb
to the other world they crawl into the yawning tomb
then back they turn towards the sun’s light with secrets in their ears
on the ferry they emerge under the prince’s leer
“au groüet
il y bait du lait;
à la pulente
lé dgiâbl’ye les tormente
et à p’tit port
lé dgiâbl’ye y dort”
né v’chîn à la lavoir des dames, seyiz les beinv’nus au vot’ mort
aniet sera vot’ dernièthe
ach’teu est lé temp à prier à vot dgieu
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