Winds of One Thousand Winters

Clouds darken and dampen My spirit

As My brow bows low

While My eyes see only earth,

The engraining of furrows on My soul.

Feels as though the winds of

one thousand winters

Have hacked away whatever life existed

Within My now battered link

To the world of Donn.

He calls -

But not for Me to follow.

He calls out -

Storms of support for My cause

He calls out storms -

Which feed But dying embers

That grow slowly from the ash

Which had threatened to engulf

And rise -

Rise to flames

Which burn -

Which burn the dead wood.

Onward, yes onward comes the

bellowing cries

Which resounds through the hills

As the stag roars in triumph.

Once again he will rise, a Rí­ of the South,

And with him will rise the hope of the Gael.

Embrace the new with purpose and vigour

Revive the old and condemn Gall Glassa.