A 'Mora' from the Ancestral Choir - By Liudward. E

[Randalla]

[On yet another dark and dreary night inside the comforting embrace of the Lady's Resting Place, a young Kartakan takes the spot upon the humble stage once more. The divine 'Mora' is told in veneration to the revered Kartakan ancestors, called the Anen Prima, or "the Ancestral Choir".]

O, childhood, o time of golden dreams,
When the world was sunny, hopeful, and good!

How often when alone and desolate I suffer,
I drink forgetfulness from the river of memories.

Then I live blissfully in the realm of dreams,
With castles, palaces and all the splendor of the world.

Where every comrade is my brother, my sister, and my equal.
And the nymphs thread their wildest dance.

Within lies happiness, non-closing obstacles.
No barriers to the journey of freedom.

What more about the present with conditions binds me?
I live like antiquity in the world of childhood.

Tired I wish to stay in the valleys of my homeland,
Where I slumber on flowering heather.

And seldom do I want to dream of the halls of heaven,
Where death is killed and you are forever young.