A visitor from through the woods
    did come one day to see
The house wherein small Morlhav stood
    just by his mother's knee

The visitor, she told them both
    that this forest was cursed
and that they should return at once
    to where his mother nursed

His mother did not her believe
    and said they would not go
For altogether she did leave
    for reasons she should know

The woods were fine for them to live
    and gave fruits full and fair
The honeybees o'erflowed their hive,
    the garden took much care

So they would stay, if she would not
    and all would turn out fine
And no more should the witch return
    than she should drink their wine

But Morlhav was a cautious sort
    and asked for more detail
Of how the curse did work itself
    and just how they would fail

The Moon would cast a painful light,
    and take away the stars
And their breath would come fast and quick,
    the tree's shadows like bars

And all who stood beneath that moon
    would not last through the night
And their single and only hope
    lay in a speedy flight

All this and more the witch explained
    and Morlhav thought it through
And though he could not quite see why,
    he knew that the witch knew

When she had left and once more was
    the cottage quiet and still
His mother took him on her lap
    and soothed him with a tale

The woods was fine, his mother said,
    the witch a bitter hag
For when her path had out here led,
    when he was just a lad,

She saw a vision of a child
    with fur along his back
Who took her to the building spot
    and said they would not lack

And if the woods had turned on them,
    which she was sure they'd not,
The child would surely have returned,
    and told them of their lot

On hearing what his mother said,
    small Morlhav was relieved
But when the moon shone out the trees
    his heart was ill at ease

The seasons turned, and work was had
    'till one crisp Autumn night
His mother ran into the house
    her face covered with fright

"The moon!" she said, "It's as she warned!
    It sheds a painful light.
But you are here all safe indoors
    — we must now last the night."

His mother bundled in her cloak
    brave Morlhav's weeping form
And cautioned him he must not peek
    or risk the strange night's scorn

"And you're safe too?" he asked at once
    feeling his mother's press
From where she wrapped herself around
    and clutched him to her breast

She did not say, nor tell a lie,
    but held him tight instead
And when the dawn had come for them
    he found that she was dead

Though Morlhav had not peeked and seen
    the thing that stalked the night
One other had, from worlds away,
    and it gave to him a fright

For he had once promised a girl
    that she would be quite safe
In the forest where he had chose
    to spread his princely grace

But barriers between the worlds
    at times wane thick and thin
And he had ultimately not
    foreseen what did her in

And now the beast had made its lair
    it would not range too far
Alone, his power would not suffice
    to from the for'st it bar

So Érdamman did take himself
    up to the castle cold
Where his parent did have their court
    since years and years untold

His parent was a giant tree
    grown up around their throne
They looked upon their furry son
    and spoke to him alone

"My son, I see you're troubled now,"
    the giant monarch said
"What is it that has moved you so?"
    Their son then bent his head

"O parent mine," Érdamman cried
    "I have just seen a beast.
It lairs in my forest now
    and on my girl it feasts.

Can you spare me a solar fruit
    with which to drive it out?
Or else a group of hunting men
    so that we could it rout?"

The monarch of the other folk
    let out a heavy sigh.
"There's no one here can help you now,
    especially not I

For winter comes faster each year
    and I must hold it back
Lest farms and fields lie barren and
    the people harvest lack

But if your girl the beast did eat,
    why do you seek it now?
She'll come, in time, upon the winds
    and land upon my bough."

"She had a son," the child revealed,
    "while living in my wood.
It would not do to leave him there
    when I could do him good."

"Then you must search for council at
    another ruler's court,"
His parent now decided, "for
    you're a stubborn sort,

And I know that you cannot rest
    ere you have sorted out
The remnants of this tradgedy
    the beast has brought about.

So go now with my blessing, and
    a little token more:
A seed which you can present to
    the handsome fairy lord."

They said their piece and bent a branch
    to drop a nut of gold
Into their child's waiting hand
    for the high king of old.

Érdamman thanked his parent then
    and took his leave to go
It's not his path that now we must
    recount in story, though:

For Morlhav woke then on his bed
    and sent tears pouring down
He knew what it was he must do:
    prepare a burial mound

He went and found a plot of land
    between two Elder trees
And gamely set his shovel to
    'till he was to his knees

The work was hot and hard on him
    the shovel not his size
But he pressed on 'till noon had come
    and sweat poured o'er his eyes

He lifted stones, and shifted dirt,
    and lunched on kalhnador *
So when night came he knew that he
   must do just one thing more

* A kind of domesticated brassica common in the region. There is, unfortunately, no truly precise translation to English. And I dare you to name a kind of cabbage that fits the rhyme scheme.

He took the cloth from where it lay
    and covered up the wood
So that the snow would not decay
    the dry logs where it stood

He spread the cloth upon the floor
    by bed wherein she laid
And reached a hand to roll her on
    and bring to final stay

But Morlhav could not bear to touch
    her cold and lifeless form
Though the sun made for the hills quick
    and he could not 'wait morn