hoangminh233
@hoangminh233 In loving memory of Natalie 'Little Ă
ska'
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Sun is the light of the world I bow to the divine decree. Pagan.
Isa thirst of lost waters birth.
PÄ den nordiska halvön fanns en gÄng en vacker tjej uppkallad efter Yule of Justice Winter Festival. PÄ en tid som Änderna blir gamla, var hon en ny ström som sjelen sprang djupt och hjÀrtat smalt.
Hon var snÀll om du kom pÄ hennes vÀg, hon skulle lÄta dig korsa lÀtt, men om du glider, akta dig, kan hennes djup och Äskande strömmar lÀtt drunkna dig.
En dag kÀmpade en ren ochre trolldomare och namngiven av rÀttvisa "just" under fallna stenblock nÀr nya strömvatten förflyttade jorden frigör trölen men svepte honom i hennes djupa och isiga vatten, men hon lÀt inte honom drunkna. Hon virvlade runt och förde honom till hennes ös strand.
NÀr han förstod hur hon hade rÀddat hans liv, började han bli kÀr i hennes kristallklara, men ÀndÄ djupa och skuggade vatten.
Han rÀckte ut för att röra vid henne, hon rÀckte tillbaka och höll fast vid honom, som solens ljus pÄ jorden, han kÀnde henne sval vÀrme.
SÄ fascinerad av hennes renhet, fördjupade han honom sjÀlv i henne och blev djup förÀlskad. Hon kÀnde och kÀnde hans kÀrlek, hon tillÀt honom att stranda sina banker med stenblock som han hoppades skulle ge henne styrka för hon var livet sjÀlvt.
För henne, bördan av hennes egen grova, som gett upp av sin mamma förlorat lÀnge, kÀnde hon sig svag.
Hon gav allt hon kunde, men nedströms missbrukades och försummades hennes vatten.
Han kÀmpade för att trösta henne, men han visste inte vad han skulle göra.
Hon uppmanade Frejas ande, han uppmanade andens dr, men ingen kunde hjÀlpa. Men de hade sin kÀrlek att hÄlla dem bundna.
TrĂČl försökte flytta stenblock för hennes strĂ€nder men hon var lĂ„ngt borta för hans anstrĂ€ngningar, allt han kunde göra var att nĂ„ en liten del av henne, hennes hjĂ€rta.
TyvÀrr kom den ödesdigra dagen, hennes vatten runnit torrt, hon var bara ett lur i leran, det fanns ingenting den rÀttfÀrdiga mannen kunde göra men vÀnta och hoppas, han blev ocksÄ svag och ledsen tills hon en dag inte var mer.
FrÄn den tiden blev mannen Äskan i hennes vatten och spillde sitt eget blod och försökte ge henne liv.
Vad som kommer att komma av det Àr Ànnu inte berÀttat.
English----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------
Of the Nordic peninsula there was once a beautiful girl named for the Yule of righteous winter festival. In a time the spirits grow old, she was a new stream who's soul ran deep and heart narrow.
She was kind if you came upon her path, she would let you cross easy, but if you slip, beware, her depths and thundering currents could easily drown you.
One day, a pure ogre conjurer "trollkarl" and named of justice "just and fair" was struggling beneath fallen boulders when new stream waters moved the earth freeing the tröl but sweeping him into her deep and icy waters, but she did not let him drown. She swirled around and brought him to her islands shore.
As he was comprehending how she had saved his life, he began to fall in love with her crystal clear, yet deep and shadowed waters.
He reached out to touch her, she reached back and clung to him, like the suns light upon the earth, he felt her cool warmth.
So enthralled with her cleanness, he immersed him self in her, falling deep in love. She knew and felt his love, she allowed him to shore her banks with boulders that he hoped would give her strength for she was life its self.
For her, the burden of her own coarse, spawned of her mother long lost, she felt weak.
She gave all she could, but down stream her waters were abused and neglected.
He struggled to comfort her, but he didn't know what to do.
She called upon the spirit of Freja, he called upon the spirit of Ădr but none could help. But they had their love to hold them bound.
The trĂČl tried to move boulders for her shores but she was far to distant for his efforts, all he could do was to reach a small part of her, her heart.
Sadly, the fateful day came, her waters ran dry, she was but a trickle in the mud, there was nothing the just man could do but wait and hope, he too grew weak and sad until one day she was no more.
From that time, the man became the thunder of her waters, spilling his own blood trying to give her life.
What is to come of it is yet to be told.
I love you Natalie!
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