Welcome to "The Gods Are Bored!" I am your exhausted host, Anne Johnson. Anne Johnson is my real name. I think.
Last summer I successfully memorized "Miracles," by Walt Whitman. Reciting it has given me pleasure all year long. Therefore I am commencing another memorization task. It is the famous "first poem of Ireland," a work called "The Mystery," by Amergin.
See what you think:
I am the wind that breathes upon the sea
I am the wave of the ocean
I am the murmur of the billows
I am the ox of the seven combats
I am the vulture upon the rocks
I am a beam of the sun
I am the fairest of plants
I am a wild boar in valor
I am a salmon in the water
I am a lake in the plain
I am a word of science
I am a point of the lance of battle
I am the God who created in the head the fire.
Who is it that throws light into the meeting on the mountain?
Who announces the ages of the moon?
Who teaches the place where couches the sun?
If not I?
These repetitious ones are tough, but worth the effort. And pinky swear, I didn't add the part about the vulture. It was already there.
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