Four Winds

Winds Four Quarters

Maiden, Warrior, Mother and Crone

Chorus:

Wind’s four quarters, air and fire
Earth and water, hear my desire,
Grant my plea who stands alone,
Maiden, Warrior, Mother and Crone

Eastern Wind, blow clear blow clean
Cleanse my body of its pain
Cleanse my mind of what I’ve seen
Cleanse my honor of its stain
Maid whose love has never ceased
Bring me healing from the east

Southern wind, blow hot blow hard
Fan my courage to a flame
Southern wind be guide and guard
Add your bravery to my name
Let my will and yours be twinned
Warrior of the southern wind

Chorus:

Wind’s four quarters, air and fire
Earth and water, hear my desire,
Grant my plea who stands alone,
Maiden, Warrior, Mother and Crone

Western wind blow stark, blow strong
Grant me arm and mind of steel
On a road both hard and long
Mother, hear me where I kneel
Let no weakness on my quest
Hinder me, wind of the west

Northern wind, blow cruel blow cold
Sheathe my aching heart in ice
Armor round my soul enfold
Crone, I need not call you twice
To my foes bring the cold of death
Chill me north wind’s frozen breath!

Chorus:

Wind’s four quarters, air and fire
Earth and water, hear my desire,
Grant my plea who stands alone,
Maiden, Warrior, Mother and Crone
Maiden, Warrior…Mother and Crone

Winds Four Quarters

Winds Four Quarters is from the short story Swordsworn in Sword and Sorceress 3 edited by Marion Zimmerman Bradley. It is especially appropriate to be played and sung on the 16th and 17th of January. This was an ancient Greek festival in which offerings were made to the Wind Gods of the eight directions.

Here are the Lyrics:

Wind’s four quarters:
Air and fire
Earth and water
Hear my desire

Grant my plea
Who stands alone
Maid and Warrior
Mother and Crone

Eastern wind blow
Clear blow clean
Cleanse my body
Of it’s pain

Cleanse my mind of
What I’ve seen
Cleanse my honor
Of it’s stain

Maid whose love
Has never ceased
Bring me healing
From the East

Southern wind blow
Hot blow hard
Fan my courage
To a flame

Southern wind be
Guide and guard
Add your bravery
To my name

Let my will
And yours be twined
Warrior of
The southern wind

Wind’s four quarters:
Air and fire
Earth and water
Hear my desire

Grant my plea
Who stands alone
Maid and Warrior
Mother and Crone

Western wind blow
Stark blow strong
Grant me arm and
Mind of steel

Let our own both
Caught and long
Mother hear me
Where I kneel

Let no weakness
On my quest
Hinder me,
Wind of the West

[Music]

Northern wind blow
Cruel blow cold
Sheave my aching
Heart in ice

All around my
Soul enfold
Crone I need not
Call you twice

To my foes bring
Cold of death
Chill me north winds
Frozen breath

Wind’s four quarters:
Air and fire
Earth and water
Hear my desire

Grant my plea
Who stands alone
Maid and Warrior
Mother and Crone

Maid and warrior
Mother and Crone

From the album: Magic, Moondust, & Melancholy

The Garden of Paradise

edmund_dulac_-_the_garden_of_paradise_-_fairy_of_the_garden_garment

There was once a king’s son who had a larger and more beautiful collection of books than any one else in the world, and full of splendid copper-plate engravings. He could read and obtain information respecting every people of every land; but not a word could he find to explain the situation of the garden of paradise, and this was just what he most wished to know.

His grandmother had told him when he was quite a little boy, just old enough to go to school, that each flower in the garden of paradise was a sweet cake, that the pistils were full of rich wine, that on one flower history was written, on another geography or tables; so those who wished to learn their lessons had only to eat some of the cakes, and the more they ate, the more history, geography, or tables they knew. He believed it all then; but as he grew older, and learnt more and more, he became wise enough to understand that the splendor of the garden of paradise must be very different to all this. “Oh, why did Eve pluck the fruit from the tree of knowledge? why did Adam eat the forbidden fruit?” thought the king’s son: “if I had been there it would never have happened, and there would have been no sin in the world.” The garden of paradise occupied all his thoughts till he reached his seventeenth year.

One day he was walking alone in the wood, which was his greatest pleasure, when evening came on. The clouds gathered, and the rain poured down as if the sky had been a waterspout; and it was as dark as the bottom of a well at midnight; sometimes he slipped over the smooth grass, or fell over stones that projected out of the rocky ground. Every thing was dripping with moisture, and the poor prince had not a dry thread about him. He was obliged at last to climb over great blocks of stone, with water spurting from the thick moss. He began to feel quite faint, when he heard a most singular rushing noise, and saw before him a large cave, from which came a blaze of light. In the middle of the cave an immense fire was burning, and a noble stag, with its branching horns, was placed on a spit between the trunks of two pine-trees. It was turning slowly before the fire, and an elderly woman, as large and strong as if she had been a man in disguise, sat by, throwing one piece of wood after another into the flames.

“Come in,” she said to the prince; “sit down by the fire and dry yourself.”

“There is a great draught here,” said the prince, as he seated himself on the ground.

“It will be worse when my sons come home,” replied the woman; “you are now in the cavern of the Winds, and my sons are the four Winds of heaven: can you understand that?”

“Where are your sons?” asked the prince.

“It is difficult to answer stupid questions,” said the woman. “My sons have plenty of business on hand; they are playing at shuttlecock with the clouds up yonder in the king’s hall,” and she pointed upwards.

“Oh, indeed,” said the prince; “but you speak more roughly and harshly and are not so gentle as the women I am used to.”

“Yes, that is because they have nothing else to do; but I am obliged to be harsh, to keep my boys in order, and I can do it, although they are so head-strong. Do you see those four sacks hanging on the wall? Well, they are just as much afraid of those sacks, as you used to be of the rat behind the looking-glass. I can bend the boys together, and put them in the sacks without any resistance on their parts, I can tell you. There they stay, and dare not attempt to come out until I allow them to do so. And here comes one of them.”

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