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In Praise of the Feast at Ivrin

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That was a great feast!
Everyone came: from the mist-kissed north
the High King himself,
from the thundering Sea came the Mariner,
the Hunters from the green wood.
From the uplands and the plains we came,
from the valleys and the moors.
Oh, but it pains my heart to know
that we shall meet no more on the banks of Ivrin.

Cousins greeted each other and strangers.
Gifts were exchanged, customs explained,
each word not understood found a translator.
Bounty of the High King: there was no such thing
as an empty cup, no empty hand or platter.
How the wine flowed and the laughter!
The shared laughter of my people blended with music--
like the sunlight on the waters of the pools at Ivrin.
Oh, but it pains my heart to say
that we shall meet no more on the banks of Ivrin.

We parted in friendship, each to his own land returning.
None among us who did not look back at least twice,
none who did not wish to retrace his steps...
Oh, but it pains my heart tonight
that we shall meet no more on the banks of Ivrin.