Chapter Text
Within the garden of Eilythia’s home
The two holy ladies were sat enthroned
In chairs of cedar wood and ivory,
Discussing life's affairs and tribulations,
Its most important matter: marriage ties:
'Diwäia, servant closest to my heart,
Who always gives advice both good and fair
In diplomatic language, not too blunt
But honey-sweet and flowery, as befits
A handmaid of the lady of the wood,
Nor do you hide the truth when truth is dark
And most displeasing to my fairy ear,
A perfect balance, honest, straight advice
Within a ladylike manner of speech,
My oath-bound troth is imminent, and yet,
My mind has turned towards a different route:
My heart no longer desires handsome Geth
But rather Farinth[1], lord of wealth and crops!'
Diwäia:
'My fairy queen who rules both sky and earth,
Now what has brought this on so suddenly?
Geth is a handsome man of great renown,
Proven in battle and the ways of war
And skilled with threshing flail and plough.
I've gazed upon his face, and when I did,
My beating heart was seized with flaming lust!
So handsome is his face and mighty form
That none among all men and womenfolk,
Whether imperishable deity
Or fragile being of the mortal realm,
Could ever refuse an advance of his!
Yet you my mistress, will turn him away
And break this good betrothal 'tween two gods?
Whatever is the matter, why refuse?'
Eilythia:
'Diwäia, faithful servant dear to heart,
Geth is naught but a jumped up cattleman!
The sort to turn to vicious banditry,
To build his wealth, only to lose it all
Again once strife imparts her loathsome will.
Now Farinth, keeper of the shining goods,
He would make for a fine and honest groom!
A good provider, rich in jewels and gold,
And skilled in digging lengthy terraces
To hoe then sow with barley, wheat, and oats.
That is why I desire a different man
To take within my bed and make my groom.'
Diwäia:
'Mistress Eilythia, let's not be so hasty!
Geth may be rough around the edges, true,
Yet is roughness so awful in one's husband?
Give me a man who seizes what he wants!
For who else in this world is worthy of
A maiden's hand beyond the husbandman
Who can defend her with bold fearlessness?
Farinth will give you boundless wealth in gold,
And yet I think that handsome Geth will give
A greater sum in other, better things,
Things more important for the marriage bond.
Consider what I say, mistress Eilythia,
Your current betrothal is fitted well.'
Geth:
'Listen to fair Diwäia, maid of stars,
Eilythia, exceedingly fair of face,
You talk of wedding Farinth, lord of wealth,
The god who dwells below the boundless earth,
Repudiating me in favour of
This ghostly lord who hoards his golden goods,
Never displaying generosity
As a good king is obligated to?
Why do you turn your back, Eilythia sweet?
What of the good betrothal pledged upon
The river Meir by our own sovereign hands?'
Eilythia:
'You, marry me? A jumped up cattleherd
Wed to the sovereign of the universe?
My fathers are bright Glou and lordly Des,
My mother Gia, the broad and boundless one.
Within my hand I hold the hefty mace,
Its head of polished stone, its shaft of ash.
Within my hand I hold the double axe,
Its head of blazing bronze, shaft lapis bound.
I wear the olive crown and saffron dress
And lapis lazuli and gold pectoral.
I made my home within the Tree of Life
Then bore the chosen people in my womb
And gently suckled each and every one,
Blessing them with my life-sustaining milk.
I climbed good Ywéllelyn, ascending sky
To trick the sovereign lord of order Des
With beer I'd brewed, the first to be fermented.
I warped his sense and smashed his once-good wits
Then stole the ancient fire in my own hands.
I burned the wood and planted my eight crops
Within the fertile soil blackened by fire,
And then I ground the grain and baked the bread,
Once I had reaped my bounty of a yield.
I am a mistress of the noblest rank
And Farinth will provide me with great wealth:
He'll give me heaps of rye from hoe-struck land,
He'll give me einkorn grain from terraced farms.
He'll give me well fermented barley beer,
He'll give me many jars of golden ale.
He'll give me flax to weave my linen clothes.
He'll give me jewellery made with amber beads
He'll give me many gleaming bars of gold.
Farinth will suit my noble tastes nicely!
More nicely than a rustic ruffian
Straight from the arid plain of Faidaland!
Geth:
Eilythia, why do you insult me so?
A prince's manliness requires an edge
Honed in a turbulent environment
To keep him strong and ready for defence
Of hearth and home, his wedded wife and sprouts.
Diwäia is correct! What woman wants
A man bereft of rugged character,
Without at least a slight amount of roughness?
Make no mistake Eilythia, queen of Elves,
Hard living has not deprived me of manners
Nor refinement in good and proper taste
Regarding all the many pleasing things
That come beside a soft luxurious life.
I am a man of many modes and means,
I'll be your rough and ready fighting-man
Defending hearth and home bereft of fear
And roughing you up when you so desire!
And I shall be your gracious household lord,
Treating you as the highest queen you are
Within our household bound by marriage bond.
And Farinth, lord of earth, his gifts? What gifts!
He'll give you heaps of rye? I'll give you spelt
From irrigated farms struck by the share!
He'll give you einkorn? Well I'll give you wheat
Sprouted from fertile land ploughed by the ox!
He'll give you barley beer? I'll give you wine
Pressed from the blushing fruit of the good vine!
He'll give you golden ale? I'll give you milk,
Cream from the udders of my shambling herd!
He'll give you linen? Well I'll give you wool,
Shorn from the sheep who graze upon the hills!
He'll give you amber beads? I'll give you hide,
Fine leather of the finest, softest texture!
He'll give you bars of gold? I'll give you honey,
Plucked from the hives of bees replete with vigour!
Eilythia, holy queen of Elvenkind,
My plough is heavy, and its share is sharp,
I'll plough furrows along your fallow land
And make it fertile, ready for the seed.
You'll reap a hefty yield of holy spelt
If only you accept me in your heart!’
Then from the lover's quarrel, passion bloomed,
So Geth and fair Eilythia were betrothed.
Then time passed, and the wedding day soon came,
And fair Eilythia was fretting with nerves.
Eilythia:
'Diwäia! Dearest servant to my heart!
My usually prudent mind's beset with fear,
Fear of this wedding day I've long awaited!
The special day my handsome husband comes
Having bestowed the bride price, sought permission,
To sweep me off my feet and take me 'way
To seal our bodies in the nuptial bond.
And yet this fear has burdened me,
Anxiety begins to rear its head
And creep within my throat with weighty hold.
My womb is heavy, burdened by unease
Churning within my belly like a knot.
My nerves are tense, my beating heart is restless,
Pounding and pounding, drumming in my bosom,
Like drums that signal an impending war.
What if my husband is displeased
With my appearance or my woman's skills
Within the marriage bed or household hearth?
Diwäia, what has seized my once-good wits?
I long for Geth, and yet I wish to flee!'
Diwäia:
'Mistress Eilythia, every single bride
Upon her wedding day is struck with nerves!
Your prudent mind is wandering around
With nothing good to occupy itself with.
I have prepared the linen sheet for you,
The finest flax, bleached white beneath the sun,
A fitting shroud to lay beneath your back
For that time when your handsome groom arrives.
Now since I've made the holy marriage bed
Why not attire yourself with lovely dress,
Your finest clothing, gold and saffron hued?
You'll make the loveliest bride among the gods,
A wonder to behold, a crown for Geth!
Then once you're finely dressed and well-adorned
With white lead, ochre, kohl, and malachite,
Enshrouded with the seven sweetened oils,
You'll be prepared to meet your handsome groom:
But play the tease! Receive him lovingly
But dangle what he wants before his eyes,
To rouse his beating heart with flaming lust,
All to encourage Geth's desire to conquer
All of you whole, your mind, body, and soul!'
Eilythia:
'Diwäia, dearest servant to my heart,
You speak with great wisdom, the nuptial nerves
Have taken hold over my heart and soul,
As they should for a maiden woman blessed
With a divine and handsome groom like Geth!
Come, let's get dressed, I wish to look my best
For when my strapping gallant groom arrives!'
The two ladies then left the spacious hall
Towards the dressing chamber, deep inside
The passages of fair Eilythia's palace.
Then fair Eilythia with her serving maid
Began to pick the beautiful apparel
Suitable for Eilythia's wedding day.
But first Diwäia took the sandstone palette
Adorned with images of Nálayer,
Eilythia climbing up the Tree of Life,
The holy willow’s branches stretching out
Around an empty bowl for mixing makeup.
Divine Diwäia crushed some pure white lead
To brush along her lady's lovely face.
Then fair Diwäia crushed some shady kohl
And lined her lady's eyes with great precision.
Then malachite she crushed to powder fine,
Along with crimson ochre, nature's blood,
The malachite accompanying kohl,
The ochre for Eilythia's lips and cheeks.
So then Diwäia dressed her lady's hair
In lovely curls as black as Nysia's cloak,
Tinted with crushed up henna in long streaks.
Still nude, Eilythia's gentle skin was swathed
In countless scented oils and sacred saps:
Jasmine and frankincense, cedar and myrrh,
And holy cypress, lavender and rose,
All to enswathe her body with sweet smells.
They picked a saffron dress with pleated skirt
Layered with coloured flounces, eight in whole,
With silvered bodice, lined with fine cut gems
And painted well with swirls and floral styles
In multi-coloured ink, the ocean's paint,
To cover up the Elven lady's body.
Then fair Eilythia picked her finest jewels:
A gold pectoral lined with lapis stones,
Beside a collar all of twisted gold
Adorned with gleaming pearls and faience beads.
For arms and ankles, bangles of pure gold
In coils and swirls with dangling ruby beads,
While for her ears a pair of tasselled rings,
The lovely tassels long and crimson hued
Hanging from ever-shining golden settings,
And for her fingers dozens of fine rings
Some with gemstones enclasped in golden settings
Others with seals with finely made designs
Of trees and flowers and other green motifs.
Diwäia, maid of starlight, then placed
A crown of ivory upon the head
Of fair Eilythia, lined with golden leaves
And natural plants of iris flower and poppy
Along its headband of pale ivory,
With six massive ox horns of gleaming gold
Projecting forth upon the lofty crown.
Then fair Diwäia swathed her lady's hands
With crimson henna, painting intricate
Designs across Eilythia's hands and feet,
And placed some belladonna in her eyes
Eilythia's eyes enlarging, filled with lust,
Delightful to the sight of any being
Who looked upon her lovely hazel eyes.
Then fair Diwäia looked upon her mistress,
Addressing her with winged words of praise:
'My mistress, beautiful is not the word!
More than just beautiful, no one among
The goddesses or mortal women of
This boundless earth of ours could e'er compare
To your infinite grace and lovely looks!
Geth will be pleased I'm sure, a lucky man
To come within your gleaming high-roofed home
To seize you in hand as his wedded wife!'
So beautiful Eilythia was prepared
To take her handsome groom into her bed
And seal their good betrothal with a bond
Of sweet domestic bliss, beneath one roof.
Before he came, Eilythia turned towards
Her faithful maid and spoke to her as such:
'Diwäia, dearest woman to my heart,
Oh how I long for Geth within my bed,
Within my home, around my flaming hearth
Beside me, yoked together in the bond
Of conjugal delight, the joys of marriage.
Excitement floods the plains of my beating heart
For Geth's arrival to my high-roofed hall.'
Now Geth was strolling to his woman's home,
Dressed in his best, his robe of spider silk
Green hued and woven with much golden thread
In floral patterns, irises and lilies
With swooping birds of countless types and breeds,
A gang of good retainers by his side,
A crowd of trusty lads who served their lord
With utmost faithfulness in war and peace.
They bunched around their lofty champion
Asking about his meeting with the lord
Who rules above the earth from heaven's mantle.
Retainers:
'Our lord of Elvenkind, exalted Geth,
Who’s conquered all the realms of boundless earth
And carried off imprisoned fair Eilythia,
Who Techia, mistress of the Underworld
Had held in bonds below the boundless earth,
From shady Hell and back to shining light
Which earth receives from Ria the gleaming maid,
How did the meeting with the lordly Des
Transpire within Telladia's lofty hall?
Has fair Eilythia's father pledged her hand
Within your own to seal a marriage bond
And good alliance 'tween the gods above
And you our lord of all of Elvenkind?'
Come, tell us, godly lord! We long to know
If handsome Geth shall be our holy father
Bound by the bonds of conjugal delights.'
Geth:
'My faithful Elvenmen in war and peace,
Who followed me from holy Nálayer
Into the fertile plain of Faidaland,
Now how could Des refuse a mighty man,
Both handsome faced and strong on battlefields,
With good sense, cunning instincts, charm aplenty,
And a protective heart of boundless strength
Which never feels a pang of loathsome fear
Even when under terrible attack,
Like me to be the husband of his daughter,
The fair Eilythia, queen of Elvenkind?
I've conquered any man who dared oppose me
And brought this world once strife engulfed to heel,
A task beyond even the hand of Des
Despite him being nearly limitless
In his divine and godly sovereignty.
I've paid the bride price of a thousand oxen,
Each one a handsome beast with golden horns
And smooth and handsome hide of shining white
Befitting heaven's gleaming lords and ladies
In all their miraculous majesty,
Accompanied by heaps of gold and bronze,
My spoils of war, both gleaming in their value,
And testimony of my manliness
Upon the battlefield where ravens haunt.
Good looks, a handsome hand replete with wealth,
And a heart prepared to bravely defend
Both hearth and home when under grim attack
By any foe no matter how ferocious,
Bereft of paralysing hesitation.
What ever more of a prospective groom
Could a family's old patriarch demand?
Besides, my lusty friends, you know my nature,
So what if Des were ever to refuse
My good proposal for his daughter's hand?
I'd take the pretty maid myself regardless!
For who would let a lovely lady fall
Within their hands, to then just let her go
Due to a rigid-minded father's will?
She's mine and mine alone, my faithful friends,
And now I go ahead to reap the yield
Of my lustrated field, prepared for ploughing!'
Retainers:
'Our lord who rules the breadth of boundless earth,
Exalted in both word and mighty deed,
Your name resounds across the Faidan plain
And far beyond into the eastern steppe
And through the trees of holy Nálayer,
Finding its way towards the furthest edges
Of boundless earth which stretches far and wide;
Even the men who dwell in happiness
Within the kingdom of the setting sun
Recount your mighty deeds to metred song.
It's only fitting then that such a lord
Of great achievement and lofty renown
Would now receive the finest jewel of all,
Our mother, fair Eilythia, queen of Elves
Most gentle in her lovely disposition
And just in her divine and righteous rule,
Replete with beautiful fertility
Comported with a grace befitting ladies!
So happy we are to receive your lordship
As our father and sceptred sovereign king!
So march ahead and take your final prize
And be the sovereign of the universe!'
Geth:
'I have the world within my mighty hands
And the most lovely lady as my bride,
Yet, friends, a loathsome fear besets my heart!
I will my legs to move towards the home
Of fair Eilythia, she who'll be my bride,
To take her into bed and seal our bond,
And yet my legs are as still as an oak
That tree which stands firm and high on the hill,
Resisting movement even from the winds
Sent by the will of Trido[2], lord of storms.
My faithful comrades, cool these anxious nerves,
Even the fearless feel a pang of fear
Upon the long-awaited wedding day,
When bachelorhood is soon left behind,
And two bodies become a single whole.
Whether a god or mortal Man or Elf,
Fair love holds his mighty power over all.
Put him up there above capricious fate.’
Retainers:
'Our lord among the gods of sky and earth,
Even you are beset by worried nerves
Upon your day of joining with your bride?
You've taken countless foes in single combat
And never faltered when beset by ranks
Of enemies equipped with burnished bronze,
Their spears aglow against the shining sun,
Not even flinching in a blip of fear
As you stand firm against the violent onslaught.
And yet you fearfully flinch before us here
When faced with the most beautiful of maids?
Woe! How our mighty warrior king has fallen,
Finally defeated by a lofty foe,
A beautiful young lady who unnerves
His confidence, a lofty deed that none
Among the many mighty warriors
Of the far-stretching earth could e’er accomplish!
You're blushing, Geth, as though you were a boy
Still in the beautiful flower of youth,
Shy in his disposition when around
The maiden girl he longs for and adores,
Watching her draw the water with her friends,
His lustful eyes entranced in strong desire,
And yet he never makes a brazen move!
Come on, dispose of shyness, mighty Geth,
You have the world within your sovereign hands,
Eilythia, wide of hips, is yours to seize!
So get yourself together, boldly go
And stop behaving as a bashful lad!’
Geth:
'My good retainers, best among my men,
Oh how you tease me for my marriage nerves!
Yet now I feel the flowing blood return
With fiery heat within my handsome body,
Ready for fair Eilythia's sweet seductions
Within the bed of conjugal delights!
I stride forth with a strong ram's confidence,
Ready to take my blushing bride in hand
With bold audacity, here at her home.
Go now, be gone, my good companions in war,
For now I come to fair Eilythia's home
And I don't need a band of reckless lads
Beside me as I lead my bride in hand!
Shoo, shoo! Don't cramp my style, my faithful friends,
Leave me be with Eilythia, queen of Elves.'
Then handsome Geth's retainers soon dispersed
To leave their lord alone beside the door
Of beautiful Eilythia's high-roofed hall.
She'd heard his coming, gallant Geth's footsteps
Besides the clamour of his band of men.
With worry weighing on Eilythia's womb,
She went to fair Diwäia filled with nerves.
Eilythia:
'Diwäia, dearest sister of my heart,
Geth has arrived! What shall I do, my sister,
How can I take him in when nerves beset
My heavy stomach, filling it with flutters,
The fairies which come when a maiden woman
Has come upon a good-looking young man
Graced with an air of manly confidence?'
Diwäia:
'Mistress Eilythia, dearest friend of mine,
Have no unwholesome fear within your heart.
A woman always feels a healthy worry
When joining in the conjugal delights
Of marriage bond with such a handsome man.
Hear my advice: transform your worried nerves
Into a shyness befitting a bride,
Who wishes to coquettishly seduce
Her strapping man with coy and teasing charms.
Go, go my lovely mistress! Meet your man,
Throw caution to the wind, enjoy the bond
You'll forge with Geth the handsome champion!'
Then beautiful Eilythia went to greet
Her handsome groom, the man her body
Would soon belong to forevermore.
Anticipation gripped her beating heart,
Her hands were dripping with myrrh when she came
Towards the door, her groom putting his hand
Through the keyhole in order to delight
His queen, her womb most sated as she opened
The door and brought her dearest man inside.
Eilythia:
'Oh how I've longed to see your handsome face,
To feel your presence here before my eyes!
This month has felt like an eternal age,
For to be separated from your heart
For even just a single passing moment
Is as the most profound of evil losses
Any among both gods and mortal men
Could ever feel within their beating hearts.
My sovereign, come within my high-roofed hall,
I long to feel your lips against my own,
Your hands upon my skin in sweet caress.'
Geth:
'Eilythia, dearest woman to my heart,
My heart has been beset by endless longing
To lay my eyes upon the sight of you.
The hardships of the long-pathed journey's road
To holy Nálayer, the forest of the gods,
Fail to compare to that which lays its burden
Upon my heart, the rending of our bond
Even for just a single passing moon.
Your father, Des who wields the oaken sceptre,
Has given o'er your hand in marriage bond
To mine for you to be my wedded wife.
Now I shall take your waist within my hands
And seal our now eternal marriage bond
With a delightful kiss upon your lips!'
Eilythia:
‘Your lips’ embrace is like smooth, flowing honey,
A sweet abundance, pleasing to the tongue.
Beholding you my mighty lord of men
Is a divine and soul-consuming pleasure.
Your hair is fire, aglow within the lamp
Replete with finest oil and burning bright
Upon a wheel-spun brazier, finely shaped
From ochre-coloured clay, with decoration
Painted in heavy tones by skillful hands.
Your eyes are emeralds, plucked from mountain veins
By prospectors and cut to good perfection,
And set within a clasp of copper gold
To brightly shine and dazzle all who see
Those perfect gemstones set within a crown.
Your face is like a noble lion in
Its majesty, replete with handsomeness,
Your cheekbones high, your nose like sculpted marble,
Your jaw a lofty ridge arising tall.
Your lips are like a yarn of finely spun
Spider silk dyed with the vermilion red
Of powdered cinnabar, replete with rich
And vibrant colour, full of love and life.
Your skin is as the finest earthenware,
A rich and healthy shade, like powdered umber,
Blessed by the gleaming sun's all-seeing gaze
And shaded with an olive undertone.
Your chest is like a wall of ashlar bricks
Sculpted and smoothly cut by skillful hands
Both sturdy, able to endure whatever
Blow which befalls it's lofty parapet,
And wonderful to place one's eyes upon,
The ashlar masonry and lofty height
The toilsome work of highest craftsmanship.
Your arms are branches of the sturdy oak
Reaching towards the sky in sweet embrace,
Replete with hardy strength and ruggedness,
Casting a shade I long to rest beneath.
Your legs are tapered columns, strong and tall,
Composed of cypress wood from distant isles
Sanded and smoothed, and brightly gilded gold,
Holding your sacral pillar, standing firm.’
Geth:
‘Your lovely hair is like a waterfall,
Flowing along a slope of sable marble,
That black stone found within the lofty hills
Of black Ithairen, land of the great Arkans[3],
The waters flecked with vibrant streaks of fire.
Your eyes are like a newly-mothered fawn's,
Almond in shape, the iris broad and deep
Inviting lustful gaze yet playing coy.
Your face is like a heifer's countenance,
Your skin unblemished, beaming in its youth,
Aglow with beauty granted by the gods.
Your lips are like a luscious apricot
Perfect in ripeness, full and blushing red,
Inviting eagerly one's mouth to eat,
Both flesh and kernel a delight to taste,
The hidden seed as fragrant as a pine
And sweet upon the tongue like honeyed fruit.
Your weighty bosom is a pair of pure white fawns
Feasting upon the grass of sacred glades,
Their hind-legs skirted by the blooming flowers
As they scuttle along the swaying blades.
Your waist is bundled wheat, a newly reaped
Harvest of handsome cereal, golden hued,
Ready for threshing, kept inside the silo
To keep the hefty yield unspoiled and clean.
Your lovely navel is a golden basin
That's set within the ivory pedestal
That is your belly, feminine and smooth,
The basin empty, ready for its wine.
Your hips are like a far-extending field
Prepared for tilling, fertile in its soil
And stretching long across the rolling plain.
Your legs are like a pair of silver birches,
Rising from earth towards the shining sky
A pure white shade in hue with delicate
And slender curves as their branches unfold.
Eilythia:
'My handsome lord, the lust within my heart
Is like a gushing spring, erupting forth
With great excitement, boundless in its vigour.
I cannot wait! Come, come my handsome man,
I'll take the lead now, put your hand in mine,
And we shall come into the nuptial chamber
Where good Diwäia placed the linen sheet
Upon my bed frame, ready to receive
A passionate embrace of lover's lust.
The bed shall be the bedrock for my soil
And you my falling rain, my rapid flood,
My rolling river, coming on my soil.
So take my hand, the brother of my heart,
And let me guide you to a lovely place
Of conjugal delight, to share between
Our hearts the passions of the marriage bed!'
Geth:
'Take me within your house's deepest nook,
The place where we shall find delights in love.
My hand is placed within your own Eilythia,
I have submitted to your leadership
So we may bring about our nuptial bond
Upon the marriage bed, adorned with linen,
Befitting maid and virile man alike
In matrimony of their lovely bodies.
So lead the way, Eilythia, my good fawn,
Invite me deep within your private chamber!'
The lovers rushed through winding corridors
Replete with youthful passion for the other,
And so they quickly went within the chamber
Which held the bed prepared for consummation.
Eilythia:
'Geth, sovereign of my heart, my manly groom,
No longer am I able to resist
My building urge to take your body in.
My longing for your touch upon myself
Has overpowered any proper sense
I once had held within my prudent mind.
Let's lay together on the linen sheet,
For spring has come, the cow's udder is full,
Ready within her form for motherhood,
As she has birthed her calf upon the field
Swelling the shambling herd of longhorn cattle.
Give me your milk, my master of the herd!
Give me your lovely cream, my handsome cowherd!
Your lovely milk delights the woman's tongue,
Its texture thick, its taste delightfully sweet!
Buckets and pails, replete with golden cream
Bring to me Geth, who oversees the cows,
Your butter newly churned and mixed with honey,
Belongs upon my lips, upon my tongue!'
Geth:
'I place my shepherd's crook around your waist,
To bring you to my flock and shambling herd,
To be my wife, Eilythia, queen of Elves,
To swell my shambling herd as shepherdess!
I'll give you lovely milk my dearest ewe
I'll give you lovely cream my pretty heifer!
I find delight in taking mother's role,
Blessing your tongue with milk and honeyed cream!
The yield of cow's delights is bountiful,
I come with bucketfuls of thickened cream:
Only the finest foods you'll eat Eilythia,
Your lips deserve the freshly-gotten milk!
With dairy shall be honey, liquid gold,
My mighty hand enswathed in date-like dew,
My fingers sweetened, softened by delights
I've plucked from bustling hives of worker bees,
Prepared to smother with a gentle touch
My lady's milky skin, her teasing lips,
With sweet delight which sits upon my finger.
Mixed with my heavy cream, a lovely produce,
Receive my golden honey, fair Eilythia,
Take it inside your blushing lips with joy
And savour it's delectable aroma
Upon your lively tongue, beneath your nose.'
Eilythia:
'My honeyman, my keeper of the bees,
Please bring to me your handsome honey-hand
Slathered with golden dew of apiaries'
Birds who produce the holy nourishment.
You place your honey-hand upon my cheek,
Caress my skin and smooth my eager lips
With such a most delightful honey harvest
Mixed with your milk, your rich and lovely cream.
I take within my lips your sweetened joy
I take within my lips your honey-hand
My tongue is playing, pressed against your finger,
Delighting in the taste of honeyed cream!'
Eilythia:
'Come, come within my barren garden, Geth,
Once closed off from the world of manliness,
Now open for a handsome gardener
To build a canal to wetten the soil.
And once my lovely garden's wet and fertile,
Then put your handsome hand upon my soil
To find the good and proper spot for planting
Your fruiting shrubs and flowers of countless types.
May rose and jasmine bloom within my womb
May blushing apples fatten with their ripeness,
To fill my lovely cornucopia,
With boundless fruits and aromatic flowers.
Geth:
'I come within your garden, dear Eilythia,
So long enclosed by fences high and wide,
To be the irrigator of your land,
To be your king who oversees canals.
I'll make your heavy mound fertile and moist,
By placing my two hands upon its soil
With manly strength and delicate concern,
To make your field a garden of delights!
My woman's womb shall bloom with waxing fruits,
Her skin enswathed in lavender and jasmine,
Her belly full with seeds erupting forth
To bloom in a lovely display of life!
And now I come within your garden's pool
To rest my head upon the gentle grass
In order to enjoy the fruits you bear
Invitingly upon your slender branch.
I lie beneath the shadow of your shrub
Fertile and ripe, replete with blooming life.
Reaching, I grasp your fruit in hand to taste
The sweet delights of fair Eilythia's tree.
Your fragrant petals are beneath my nose,
Your blushing cherry is within my mouth,
It's juices a delight upon my tongue,
Reaping the fruits of fair Eilythia's field.
Eilythia:
'My man reclines upon my meadow bed,
His fiery head against my milky thigh,
My sovereign, so comforting is your touch
Against the good bough of my cherry tree.
Delightful is your head against my belly
As you recline beneath the shade of leaves.
Please, take whatever fruit you so desire,
Whatever pleases you, Geth, pleases me.
You eat my fruit my handsome gardener,
You press your lips against the cherry skin
And now I give you juices in return,
The sweetest thing, as sweet as honey-wine.'
Eilythia:
‘Geth! My beloved, spring has come and gone,
My untilled land lies fallow, desperate for
The heavy plough to scrape its sharpened share
Along its narrow strips of land untilled.
Please! Plough my furrow, plough my fertile soil,
And plough my vulva, eager for your touch!
Please! Take the sharpened share and plough my lord,
Sharpen the share upon the hefty plough
And plough my furrow, plough my fertile soil,
Station the ox upon my narrow ditch,
The burly bull, replete with manly strength,
And plough my furrow, plough my eager vulva!’
Geth:
Eilythia, dearest lady to my heart,
Your untilled land is begging for a ploughing,
A most rough ploughing from my sharpened share,
Your vulva hungers for a manly touch.
Eilythia, I shall plough your fertile furrow.
I'll plough your vulva, hungry for a man.
I take my hefty plough with sharpened share,
I'm sharpening my share upon my plough,
To plough your furrow, plough your fertile soil.
I lead my longhorn oxen to your ditch,
Their hide as red as blood, their strength immense,
To plough your furrow, plough your eager vulva!
Eilythia sweet, your womb is begging me,
Your garden's soil is hungry for the rain,
Your ditch desires the seed within your furrow,
Your youthful womanhood is mad for sex!
I'll call upon the sky to bring his rain,
With sacrifices on my massive altar,
With lord's command I'll dig the long canal
To bring the river flow within your womb.
Then I shall come upon your field with joy
And sing my song while I'm sowing my seed.
Joyfully I'll spread the seed of shining spelt,
Once I have come upon your fallow furrow.'
Eilythia:
'My wits are gone, my womb is mad for manhood!
My eager vulva begs for manly seed,
My furrow longs for fructifying rain,
I beg my man for manhood in my body!
My field receives the fructifying rain,
The rain, begotten by the sky, I take!
My field is irrigated, wet for seed,
Replete with water from the king's command!
I take you in my field, my handsome bull,
You place your mouth upon my field in song!
Geth, I receive your seed of shining spelt
Within my furrow, once fallow, now filled!
Geth:
'Divine Eilythia, you of many names,
Seducer of the man who tills the soil,
Inflamer of the heart, the queen of love,
Who coyly waits upon the border of
The woman's grounds within the sight of men
To shyly play your womanly seductions
Upon whoever lays their eyes upon you,
I claim you here within this marriage bed,
The wedding linen stained, our seeds now mixed,
Our lustful bodies now entwined as one
And you my wedded wife and mine alone,
A goddess who receives her offerings
From one devout and eager worshipper!
You'll want for nothing, my delightful ewe,
Within the marriage bed or far beyond:
For all my attentions shall be devoted
Solely to your divine and holy self!’
Eilythia:
'Distinguished Geth, consumer of my heart,
Of massive arms and hands replete with strength
Which take a gentle touch when so desired
And yet unleash their strength when battle calls
Whether upon the sable raven's field
Or on the gentle thighs of womankind,
I truly cannot see where you begin
And I end, so entwined in love we are,
The passionate embrace of marriage bond.
I bring you in my heavy womanhood,
I take your holy seed inside myself,
So may a testament of lustful passion
Soon be begotten from my boundless womb!
I pledge myself in mind, body and soul
To you and you alone, my lord of love,
My handsome husband, sweet in countenance,
My king who holds the sceptre of my land,
Who gives me offerings of milk and honey!'
Geth:
'Come fair Eilythia, press yourself against me,
Let's place our arms around the other's body
Until we lose ourselves within ourselves,
Forgetting all that is beyond this chamber,
Together bound in Sleep the son of Nysia,
As one body alone, no separation
Between ourselves in mind, body and soul.’
And so the lovers slept in sweetest sleep,
Their marriage consummated within the bed
Of fair Eilythia, queen of Elvenkind.
Then fair Eilythia, giver of the grain,
Awoke to dawn arising heaven high.
Eilythia:
‘My lover, Geth, the master of my heart,
You’ve left the bed, I see you through the window
Within the spacious palace hall, enthroned
In good regality and sovereign power,
Ruling as holy king and hierophant
Over the land of Faida, fat with wheat,
Hearing the good petitions of the people.
I’ve found a king and father for my children,
A just and upright husbandman, befitting
The sceptre of the gilded fennel stalk.
And yet an emptiness besets my heart,
A longing for my love to leave behind
His duties to the people he now rules,
Forgetting all the woes of overseeing
The land of Faida, to beside me lay
In passionate embrace forevermore.’
