A Kiss in the Charnel Fields

Under der krфnen wв wintro ist hкrre Wart ich gewвfent gen minne und fкind. Staimbort und suertu wвren mоn frouwe, Der ich schкnkte bluomen von bluat. Exaustedly I leave the fields of winter. My sword is rusted for steel is the mirror of my soul. I s

Kings stride through the golden Straw in ornate Raiment, Under human Plants with plenteous Fruits that pump Blood. From afar blurred Tales led them to where the Heart hangs, And Barks groan peculiar Tunes while Crowns adorn the Sand. Her Vessels smil