The queen with her guards has disappeared
And rain is falling in the flower garden
The king is dead
His sons grew fat in foreign lands
While the wild trees struck
Their roots inside
The castle walls.
The wind is howling in the valleys of our fathers
Where they worked the land between brae and burn
The rock doves flutter in leafless trees
And ivy greens the ancient stones.
The body – so beautiful in motion- catches
Caught by a bullet
Falls – and is gone
Mud comes and buries the dead of both armies
The woods are filled with sun.
Lovers come seeking shelter
Above the bones their limbs entwine
While round and ruffled to hold the warmth
A single bird sings out its song.
The birds of the fields come and go
The seasons like passing cars move on
As the hour of living fades
The hour of living is begun.