The High Trees of Water

Translated from the original by Malus Interpres.

In the tradition of my people, the Klklica, it is the Sun that is the life. Her soulmate the Water then arises and falls, giver of death.

We people live on the Inestimable Plain, where the Sun rises above the world’s edge- the Line broad and unbending.

Each day, as She leaves her abode of earth, we arise too from our burrows, and seek her blessing among the tallest branches of our trees.

Climbing with abandon, our young compete with our skilled, until we fill the trees and hear her first voice, and feel her first touch, the bastion and comfort of our race. Not long after, the first wind starts blowing, and we sway and chatter with glee as the trees dance with joy in Her breath.

The opposite is true when the rains comes.

Then dark clouds bury Her face, and the Water announces His advances with growls like the dread D’kliklicka (dog), and fissures of sky-light. Sometimes, our fellow clans tell us when His lights touch the earth, they destroy whole marches of their tallest trees without a trace. All that is left is turned black, or topped by tongues of mock-Sun that slowly devour what remains. Fear and hatred are our responses to Him.

Before the rain comes, we hide, climbing our mountain home, and entering by the common Way, heads touching. Then though His fury rage without, we will not be swept away.

Thus we have lived for many many lifetimes, facing Life and fleeing Death.

We will continue to do so always.

We are the Klklica.

 

 

 

 

 NOTES

With glory and great

 

race for the top to see her face. There, we see her glory and we sing.the dry fibres and balance against the wind.

There we see Her in all her glory. Her touch brims the water with life, we give thanks and drink, and we sing.

Each morning, the air is brimming with weight, with death, from the night, and sometimes, the rain before would have further made it dense. However, when we feel her warmth, the air lightens, and water forms, sunkissed on the branches.

worship among the tallest branches of our trees. It is a sport among our young, and skilled adults- between the youthful energy and older

Many have sought Her out for wisdom and never returned… a proof of Her beneficence, that first drew them and in her radiance is irresistable.

In the stormplain of Krikaceka, the rain the falls can mean death.

vwhere our song is heard among the bending trees,

 

 

 

In the tradition of my people, the Klklica, it is the Sun that is the life. Her soulmate the Water then arises and falls, giver of death.

We people live on the Inestimable Plain, where our song ieard among the bending trees, when the Sun rises beyond the world’s edge- the Line broad and unbending.

In the stormplain of Krikaceka, the rain the falls can mean death.

Each day, as She leaves her abode of earth, we arise too from our burrows, and seek her worship among the tallest branches of our trees. Avoiding the water that grew on the branches in her absence, we climb with abandon.

Our young and skilled race for the top to see her face. There, we see her glory and we sing.the dry fibres and balance against the wind.

There we see Her in all her glory. Her touch brims the water with life, we give thanks and drink, and we sing.

 

 

Each morning, the air is brimming with weight, with death, from the night, and sometimes, the rain before would have further made it dense. However, when we feel her warmth, the air lightens, and water forms, sunkissed on the branches.

 

 

 

worship among the tallest branches of our trees. It is a sport among our young, and skilled adults- between the youthful energy and older

Many have sought Her out for wisdom and never returned… a proof of Her beneficence, that first drew them and in her radiance is irresistable.

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