Yule night comes at last,
Dark, cold, clear, and star-studded,
The passing of night slow.
Why shall we feel joy?
The night hours seem endless
And the cold piercing.
Joy lies in knowledge.
Darkness is at its zenith,
Its weakness follows.
What is there to do,
To encourage the Sun’s birth,
And make Him welcome?
Make a little sun,
A pinpoint of light and heat,
A bright candle flame.
One candle is good,
Will not more be far better?
In joy, we light them.
The candles are stars,
Scattered upon the cold ground,
But gold, not silver.
We share a hot drink,
And offer an oblation,
To warm the cold earth.
A song rises up,
A human voice, sweet and strong,
Praising the Solstice.
We join our voices,
As we huddle together
Combining our warmth.
At long last, we see,
The tender, newborn glowing
Of the morning Sun.
And facing the East,
We celebrate its rising,
And why we feel joy!
- Aine the Rabbit

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