The Beasts of Martok


Each coming of the spring we gather
ere the first bud bloom
For the kittens of Martok to see,
such fierce and war-strong beasts,
Who drink of blood and think it fun--
no small pets are these cats.
Tall unto our necks they are
The better for the kill
But when peace calls the break of dawn
tame as playthings seem.

And so with harness, saddle, bell,
they herd unto the track
And riders brave upon them sit
heedless of their teeth
As long as fish and praise still come
these cats will bear the weight.
And more than that!
When the bell sounds
they start out from the gate

And race!

~Penden, Dec 2, 2003

In Serean:
Ey Beastils oMartok

Oi gath eache tiné Gree do cum
ere bossúm ey buds
Oi gath oKetras oMartok ee
Ey beastil oDestrú
q deli en ey driqn rud--
no ketse smal r ees.
Loo luk oe ess ketras r
e beya oEy destrú
But cumé dawn wiPeacen do
culm e cu ay su.

E so wiHarn e rid e all
ay herd ento ey lyne
e rids bravé enon em sall
nol heeden oLeeth eyn
Also luka prahen do cum
Ess ketse burdon wey.
e ma a un!
Ey all sunds unth
e ay raq oEy gaat

e raat!