#celtic poem

[juan-francisco-palencia]

Love forever.

I met you once... and I wanted to stop the passage of life and time. And if I can say every day that I love you. Without even looking into our eyes. And so when I hug you.

I tell you that you are and mean everything I need. That I love you for who you are, for what you make me feel for you.

— Juan Francisco Palencia.

[nixieofthenorth]

Like the mushroom in the woods, we may appear to be a single entity, but we are invisibly connected by a network as wide as the forest floor.

Mara Freeman, Kindling the Celtic Spirit

[apenitentialprayer]

A Tenth Century Irish Monk's Poem on Distraction

Such scandal, my thoughts how they slip away; I dread the woe to come reaped on Judgment Day.

Across the psalms they go on paths not right they run, they shout, they dance under the very eye of God.

Through crowded assemblies, through groups of giggling girls, through woods, through town faster than the wind.

They take the path of virtue at times without a doubt, then off again on wicked ways they're just as sure to go.

They start off with evil steps, without boat across every sea, with only one quick leap, jump from earth to heaven.

They run but not a race too wise, bounding here and there, after voyages indiscreet return home to me.

Though one tries to bind them by fettering their feet they never wish to settle, they do not care to sleep.

The sound of whipping seems not to slow their flight, like the tail of an eel they slip through my grasp.

Firm lock nor vaulted cell nor any chain or bond fort nor sea nor dungeon bare can halt their run.

O truly chaste and gentle Christ, my every thought You clearly see; may the Spirit of the seven graces keep them, restrain them.

Rule my heart O Creator just, that I may have Your blessing, that I may do Your will.

O Christ, give me Your love that we may be as one, You are infinite, not subject to weakness as I am.

translated by Bob Willoughby and John Caball, found in Voices From Ancient Ireland: A Book of Early Irish Poetry.

[wolffoxnation2]

I really wish we knew more about Laufey in Norse myth

Because like

HOW DOES SHE FEEL ABOUT WHATS HAPPENING TO HER SON? WHAT WILL HAPPEN?

Like does she mourn him for what has been done? Scorn and pretend he doesnt exist because of what he will do?

WHAT DOES SHE FEEL?

The fact that Loki uses her name instead of Farbauti's interests the fuck out of me

[empirearchives]

Herman Melville on Napoleon’s love for Ossian

Context: Ossian is the narrator and purported author of a cycle of epic poems published by the Scottish poet James Macpherson, originally as Fingal (1761) and Temora (1763), and later combined under the title The Poems of Ossian.

“I am rejoiced to see Hazlitt speak for Ossian. There is nothing more contemptable in that contemptable man (tho' good poet, in his department) Wordsworth, than his contempt for Ossian. And nothing that more raises my idea of Napoleon than his great admiration for him.—The loneliness of the spirit of Ossian harmonized with the loneliness of the greatness of Napoleon.”

Melville wrote this around 1862 in the margins of his copy of Hazlitt’s Lectures on the English Comic Writers and Lectures on the English Poets

Source: Hershel Parker, Herman Melville: A Biography - Volume 2, p. 436

[ancientorigins]

In 1891 the Gundestrup Cauldron emerged from a Danish bog, sparking a century-long debate. What captivating messages are hidden in the mesmerizing imagery of antlers, torcs, and snakes, waiting to be decoded?

The secrets of the cauldron's plates focus on a captivating humanoid figure with antlers. Is it the Celtic god Cernunnos or a Master of Animals? The captivating story behind a mysterious figure's metamorphosis is surrounded by symbolic clues. From twirling foliage to the number of antler tines, Could this be a visual rendition of Tuan Mac Cairill ro clos, an old Irish poem?

[raven-runes]

Brigid, 

May my forge be fed by your flame,

May my quill be guided by your spark,

May my flesh be healed by your embers.

May the harsh winter give birth to a fertile spring and a calmer earth, may your sun shine on the struggles and acts of solidarity that are preparing the world of tomorrow.

[divinationdrawings]

Let me tell you a tale of the swan prince and princess Two young lovers by the name of Caer Ibormeith and Aengus He searched the globe to find her and she sent him dreams Yet when he laid eyes upon her he found she is not all she seems She turned into a bird and looked up at him with deep black eyes And so he made himself a swan as well, and swam off with her into the sunrise

This celtic tale is thought to be a basis for many swan tales including Swan Lake and The Swan Princess, but finding hard evidence for this is difficult as many swan tales exist. as always I encourage you to do your own research.

Caer Ibormeith is a goddess of dreams and prophecy, and she marries the god of beauty and youth Aengus Og after they "fly off together in the form of a pair of swans." Source: The Dictionary of Celtic Mythology by James MacKillop.

[meddwlyngymraeg]

Mae diferi dwr yn cwympo A gorffwys ar fy trwyn, Galla i flasu ar fy nhafod— Amrywiaeth o fywn mwyn. Sa'i ddim yn gwybod Maen nhw'n tarddu o ble; So rwy'n derbyn Mae hi'n dod o'r sêr.

[cosmicbirch8]

Whispers

Her sky eyes emanate rainbow energy

She is of the earth

Mycelium in her veins

Connected with the land

Her ancestors call her name in the wind

They sing symphonies about her with the stars

And whisper of her wildness to the weeping willow

As she dances across time

Casting vivid colour into each moment

Fulfilling her destiny

Cosmic Birch

[yoga-onion]

Legends and myths about trees

Celtic beliefs in trees (4)

Myths and folklore of the 'Forest People’ – Druids, the Elders, Sage of Storytellers

Discovered by a Roman invasion of Great Britain over 2000 years ago, the Celts had no political centre and no leader to rule the whole land, yet they could recognise certain commonalities in their religious life.

The veneration of the dead combined with the belief in the existence of life after death formed the basis of spiritual life.

The Celts lived in harmony with the natural world, believing that spirits were hidden behind all creation and that there was something to be learned in everything that existed in nature.

Dense forests were common in Britain at the time. Every tree was precious: trees that provided shelter, trees that gave energy, trees that provided food, trees that were the source of medicines. Their daily lives depended on the natural world and trees were deeply respected as they provided all kinds of blessings. The Celts had amassed an immense knowledge of the connection between the natural world and human beings.

Specially trained elders, commonly called druids, both men and women, committed the tribe's history and numerous knowledge to memory and passed it on to the next generation in the form of poetry. As poets in their own right and wizards, they were most respected by the tribespeople. At the time, poetry was considered to be the most highly valued of all creative arts, and at the same time feared. To become a poet, one had to undergo a long and hard discipline, which took at least 12 years to complete and 20 years.

The wisdom that the druids acquired at the end of their long and arduous training was based on symbolism and associations that held the key to unlocking its mysteries. However, due to their oral tradition, the lack of written records and over 2000 years of religious oppression, very little clues to the Druids' view of nature have survived.

[Image below: Celtic goddess of healing and herbs Airmid]

木にまつわる伝説・神話

ケルト人の樹木の信仰 (4)

「森の民」の神話と伝承 〜 ドルイド・長老、語り部の聖者

2000年以上前にグレートブリテン島に侵入したローマ人によって発見されたケルト人は、政治的中心地がなく、全土を支配する指導者も存在しなかったが、信仰生活にはある種の共通性を認めることができた。

祖先崇拝と死後の世界の生が存在するという確信が結びついて、精神生活の基盤をなしていた。

ケルト人は自然の世界と調和して暮らし、すべての創造物の背後には霊が隠れていると信じ、自然界に存在するすべてには学ぶべきなにかがあると信じていた。当時の英国では鬱蒼とした森が広がっていた。避難場所を提供する木、エネルギーを与える木、食べ物を供する木、薬の元になる木、どの木も大切な存在であった。彼らの日々の暮らしは自然界に依存しており、樹木はありとあらゆる恵みを与えてくれるので深く尊敬されていた。ケルト人は自然界と人間の関係について計り知れない知識を蓄えていた。

特別な修行を積んだ長老たちは、一般的にドルイドと呼ばれ、男性も女性も、部族の歴史と数々の知識を記憶にとどめ、それを詩のかたちにして、次の世代に伝承していた。詩人であり、魔術師である彼らは、部族の人々から最も尊敬されていた。詩人になるには長い年月をかけて困難な修行を積まなければならず、最低でも12年かかり、20年を要した。

ドルイドが長く困難な修行の果てに身につけた知恵は象徴と連想にその謎を解き明かす鍵があった。しかし、口承で伝えられていたため、文字で残された記録をもたず、2000年以上にわたって宗教的迫害を受けてきたせいもあり、ドルイドの自然観をうかがう手がかりはほとんど残されていない。

[lairesta]

May it be an evening star shines down upon you

May it be when darkness falls, your heart will be true

You walk a lonely road. Oh! How far you are from home

Mornie utulie! Believe and you will find your way

Mornie alantie! A promise lives within you now

May it be the shadow's call will fly away

May it be your journey on to light the day

When the night is overcome, you may rise to find the sun

Mornie utulie! Believe and you will find your way

Mornie alantie! A promise lives within you now

-- Enya, The Lord of The Rings --

mornie utúlie = darkness has come

mornie alantie = darkness has fallen

.

[apenitentialprayer]

A Ninth Century Irish Poem on Pilgrimage

To go to Rome — great the effort, little the gain; you will not find there the King you seek unless you bring Him with you.

translated by Bob Willoughby and John Caball, found in Voices From Ancient Ireland: A Book of Early Irish Poetry.

[alkalinefrog]

arthurian legend is such a rabbit hole holy shit, I have 12 books on hold at the library and I’m not even done going down my list 😵

thank you so much @cutoutdalek again for your recommendations!! good thing most of them are poems 😭

[aperiodofhistory]

Samhain

On a dark autumn day, it will begin.

Bonfires and bones, to protect the land from sin.

The Druids awaited, the veil would get thin.

Evil can only watch, with its claws and grin.

As the ashes off the bones, will protect our kin.

[heart-songs]

Celtic Knots

We fold, one thread over the other open ends looping around rib and torso We allow space for growth reshape into a heart with effortless grace We navigate intricate twists and turns with patience, kindness, care We wrap around…and around intertwining limbs and fingers and lips make vows to honor and cherish We pull tighter and tighter still the promise of two souls bound by one love.

- Cora Finch