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To Vinland

A song I wrote in 2001 to commemorate the 1000th anniversary of Leif the Lucky Eriksson's voyage to the west where he found land unknown to his folk.

He named 3 places: Helluland - the Place of Stones, Markland - the Place of Trees, Vinland - the Place of Vines (posited to have been those of wild grapes).

Foamy necked waves break o'er the shoal Racing to wash, granite toothed beach Greenish sea moss, garlands the rocks Dark, wet and grey, set in the sand
The land ever waits, patient and hard Always unchanged, uncaring, still Beckoning those, who hear the call Find me, find me, I lie in wait

Oaken sea steed, dances in mist Crossing whale way, gull road taken Into sunset, onward to West Driven to prove, tales of new land

Ship's crew sings out, words to the sky Odin, Ægir, Thor speed our way Trust in the Gods, and strength of back Steersman holds board, sets a true course

Long are the nights, longer the days Grey backed swells, endlessly same Evening stars bright, lead ever on Darkened sky sheep, cloud gift fills kegs

Noise comes to ear, watcher hears roar Breakers tumbling, whispering birds Fading mist lifts, sight to behold Lowslung land dark, o'ertopped with green

Beyond the beach, river's mouth gapes Calling the crew, travel this way Longship slips in, trout home to wend Pull to the bank, landsmen again

Uneasy heads, fitfully rest Dreaming a dream, unproven land Unproven folk, unproven wealth Unproven Gods, unproven Fate

Wake to the dawn, Sun smiling warm Heavy branched trees, round fragrant lea Firs like at home, and grasses too Eagle's shrill cry, splits morning calm

Sights to behold, richness of beasts Branch antlered stag, bushy tailed squirrel Trees of strange hue, flowers not known Wild grapes found, Vinland is named

Old crewman dies, tree falls awry Grave hole is dug, then mound is raised Kin bones in earth, strange place no more Witnessed by death, Land Bond is made

Timber and fur, fruit, fish, and drink Ship is laden, cargo for home East points the prow, foam trail behind Trackless travel, wooden hull glides

Tales of new land, rumor no more Place now to go, homesteads to build Wealth to be had, cargoes to gain Hofs to hallow, children to bear

Long the years pass, many ships sail From many lands, head to the West Making a Home for Kin and Kith Seeking ever frontiers to tread

Foamy necked waves break o'er the shoal Racing to wash, granite toothed beach Greenish sea moss, garlands the rocks Dark, wet and grey, set in the sand

The land ever waits, patient and hard Always unchanged, uncaring, still Beckoning those, who hear the call Find me, find me, I lie in wait

The land ever waits, patient and hard Always unchanged, uncaring, still Beckoning those, who hear the call Find me, find me, I lie in wait
Find me, find me, I lie in wait
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