16 Aba GarimIn the middle of the glade, a young man danced in the light of many fires. His shadow mocked the movements of his arms and legs, throwing grotesque echoes among the seated tribesmen, as they ate their meat and drank their barley beer.
The young man snapped his fingers as he jumped over the crossed swords on the turf, and sang in a high-pitched nasal voice, accompanied by pipe and drum played by a bent and white-haired man who sat at the edge of the clearing, alone, in a world of his dreams.
The dancer sang:
‘We who are here as the sun sinks
And the night-breeze stretches his arms;
We who have watched the banners float,
Frightening away the eagle,
Threatening the hawk;
We who have dared, and loved, and hated—
Combat and leaping, fair women, enemies;
Soon we shall pass
