Will you glimmer on the sea? will you fling your spear-head on the shore? what note shall we pitch? we have a song, on the bank we share our arrows; the loosed string tells our note: O flight, bring her swiftly to our song. she is great, we measure her by the pine trees.
At the edge of the sea, a small group calls out to the moon as night begins. They ask whether it will glimmer on the water and fling its light like a spear onto the shore. There is a sense of ritual and anticipation: they carry arrows, share a song, and listen for the note a loosed bowstring makes.
Zusammenfassung ganz lesen