Embalmed in a cloak of leaves I am buried under the oak.
My corpse is but food for a being,almost immortal.
Lowered down in my mother's womb,
I feel the love and warmth reminding me at my time of birth. This is where I belong, at the home of herne, my father
My corpse is but food for a being,almost immortal.
Lowered down in my mother's womb,
I feel the love and warmth reminding me at my time of birth. This is where I belong, at the home of herne, my father
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