Your journey will be long,
dangers certain.
From clouds snakes will fall.
These can be killed only
by those amongst you
who have eaten wolf.
Don’t drink from pond or stream
in which black reeds grow.
One mouthful will turn you to stone.
Sleep with an eagle feather
clasped in your fist.
This keeps away lightning.
Find my son,
carried off by Tartars.
He has a crescent-shaped scar
on his left cheek.
By this you will know him.
One hundred fine horses
for his safe return.
I’m too old to ride with you.
Be my eyes,
vigilant in every village and forest.
Put an end to my nightmares
in which two Tartars
whip my blindfolded son
towards the edge of a cliff.
(from Beneath Our Armour)
