series of scrolls about tamreilic holidays ment to be kinda common
New Life Festival
by Marcus Sarvill, E3 177
Is it the day when passed, we
all want to pass away is thrown
into all forsaken Oblivion.
New life means new death. Take the
key that seems to hew and set us
free. Oh come again freedom.
This festival brings hope to us
when things So vile transform
within us as day to violent night.
Golden bells ring and chime. The
golden fire burns bright agian
and the heat warms our chill.
Many races celebrate today as the
life of wonder rouses us from slumber.
Come oh come, please come, Gods willing.
Pain times the third era is tossed into
the sea. this day brings true happiness
to those who beleive and trust just cause.
Away with the old take in the new.
The New Life Festival Will transform you.
---
South Winds Prayer
by Boden Othren, E3 162
Oh Gods, please hear us. We wish
to plant again as we asked years
before. Bring life to Morrowind.
Oh, give us the spring to sow our
seeds and The fall to harvest them.
Oh Gods, hear our deasperate cry.
Ash Yams give us a sweet pulp of
which to make delicious and hearty
soups. It warms the cold chill.
Corkbulb gives us wood, as trees
will not grow in most parts here.
Arrows and papyrus are made as well.
Saltrice is the grain of many profits.
Bread, Mazte, And imperial interest
Keep uc growing this crop continually.
The spring is still off and the cold
winds still laugh and mock us like
Spring will never come to Morrowind.
Oh Gods, hear our plea, bring the
planting season Fast, fast as can
be. Oh Gods, hear us as we pray.
---
Legend of the Lovers (The Song)
by Undilar E1 809
We know it was meant to be. How great
they loved, in all the world so pure
and free, but time had passed since last
they met. And love they wish us to find.
They met in a small clearing as
children. In them they knew they
would meet again. He from the north
and she from the South, leaping home
at the faint call of their mothers.
'twas, four more years till they met
again. The fire in each rekindled.
As the life of leisure each had lead
was left behind for a forbidden love.
He loved her with all his mortal
being. She loved him the same. All
was clear on that new day, till
the family of hers grew vengeful.
They called the clan, a mercenary
they had desired. And in the midst
of the courtyard of her parent’s
house the one was paid 400 gold.
That night as the lovers lie.
sleeping in each others company,
the mercenary drew its blade and
slew her companion in quiet rage.
The flow of fresh blood roused
her sleep. She screamed at the
sight of his wriggling.
She knew who would be so
cruel and went to the parents
of her companion. They took her
in with phony smiles and gave
her rest for three days. After
which while sleeping one day.
The mercenary took her last breath.
The two lovers live on in song.
Her in the voice and he in the sign.
Their song sung this night for their
souls to reintertwine.
---
Jester’s Day
By Jartod E3 154
Today is a day to shame the sage,
To run amuck and fool a mage.
Go ahead and use you voice.
It’s Jester’s Day! Rejoice, rejoice!
Profuse pigs piled in plots of plants,
The coward and his eerie stance.
Don’t hold back just have fun.
It’s Jester’s Day! Run, run!
A little girl plays a special prank,
Giving her brother a birthday cake.
The time is right go get Claudette,
It’s Jester’s Day! Sweat, sweat.
A dear wife does wrong her hun,
Baking pies spicy as the sun.
The time is now go play a fool,
It’s Jester’s Day! You rule, go rule.
Pitching paper balls about the town,
Litter bugs start to come around.
Just settle back with a sigh and yawn,
Jester’s Day will soon be gone, gone.
---
Mid Year Celebration
by Ratheus Artitonius E3 244
That little feeling you've come to know
like a father taking his first son home.
The feeling you get when you do good
that mixture you have when doing what you should.
These feelings are cast aside
when the celebreation starts to arise.
Most mortals think to celebrate
but this time does devastste.
the king as just realeased his tax increase.
and temples gives half blessings to quell and ease.
The young men so eager and so bold
meet death usually in caverns cold.
The poor are weakend by the tax incease
while the rich just see it as a mere sheeps fleece.
The Emipre is falling, not through famine or drought,
but by the ageing king and his restless bout.
but let not my ramblings turn you about
the mid year celebration is for all devout.
Tamriel Holiday Poem Collection
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Mr. Sorry of Balmora
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Tamriel Holiday Poem Collection
Last edited by Mr. Sorry of Balmora on Mon Jan 16, 2006 5:29 am, edited 9 times in total.
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Mr. Sorry of Balmora
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