A lament of a Treianraal poet, after the wedding-slaughter which came about when Lanenomen took Alyeitalya, daughter of Orusena, to wife.
Green the grass upon the hilltop—
Hill of Maidens ringed with fir trees,
High and crowned with blooming flowers,
Flowers catch with dew the sunlight
Cast it forth like dazzling diamonds.
White the feet of dancing maiden—
Tripping lightly down the hill slope,
Graceful dancing, proud and regal.
Swanlike maiden, tresses shining,
Shining golden in the sunlight.
Blue was Lanenomen’s mantle,
Tall he was and crowned with Starlight.
He takes the hand of dancing maiden,
Long they stand as carven statues.
Birds are singing, high on hilltop,
And your heart would burst to hear them.
Red the hands of wedding party,
Traced with patterns of the Lotus.
Red the cloak of shining scarlet
Which the king wore to his wedding.
Red the wine spilled by the insult—
Red the blood of wedding-slaughter.
Black the mud upon the hilltop—
Black the ravens, harsh songs singing.
Black the night which falls upon us—
Black the blood of Orusena
On the blades of Feihoth’s offspring.
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