Spring of Sorrows

By the font of Arvor-waters
Taluvoro raised his daughters,
born of sea and salt and spume,
mother gone down to her doom.

Lonesome lived that Taluvoro,
Yearned for wife with endless sorrow.
Young his children, young his daughter,
by the sweet Arvoro-waters.

Leitha sang and sweetly whispered,
Naina and the Dosia trysted,
Caitaa plucked the harp’s fair string,
Maraain trained the birds on wing.

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Spring of Sorrows

Abridged History of the 10th Age Idabrius