Lughnasad

The grain stands tall in the fields,
The days are misty and hot
As we gather the harvest of year.
Lugh the Golden is dancing forth
In the fields.

The land is laden with Nature's gifts,
But through fruitfulness and heat
The rust of autumn has begun.
Now it's time for the King of Corn
Once again to die.

Misty sun and steaming rain
Upon the pregnant Mother Earth.
Brimfull trees and tiring fields
Await the mystery of death in birth.
Await that life becomes death
Await that death becomes life.
The endless mystery of creation.

This is the beginning of the end
While the everlasting Goddess
Gives life to harvest and fruits.
Lugh is cut down with the last corn
And enters the Underworld.

Now Lugh lies down in the fields,
His life he freely gives.
He spreads his red blood on the
Cut down corn.
All that dies shall be reborn.

By turning towards the dark
By sacrificing the old
The Corn King will rise again
Lugh will be reborn
And return again in spring

Misty sun and steaming rain
Upon the pregnant Mother Earth.
Brimfull trees and tiring fields
Await the mystery of death in birth.
Await that life becomes death
Await that death becomes life.
This is the mystery of creation
This is the mystery of creation