Fate

I was riding one day, 'twas a bright sunny day,
not a cloud to be seen in the sky,
When a small yellow bird, a-singing its song,
came flying to perch on my head.
With a too-ra-li-lay, falarali-ri-lay,
it came flying to perch on my head.
There on my head, the bird ceased in its song,
and addressed me with thundering voice:
Where do you ride, where are you bound,
where are you guiding your steps?
With a too-ra-li-lay, falarali-ri-lay,
tell me where you are guiding your steps?
Ahead of me lay boundless miles of the road,
and I knew not whither they lead.
I said, the Norns they have cut, and measured my thread,
how should I know where I'm bound?
With a too-ra-li-lay, falarali-ri-lay,
tell me how I should know where I'm bound.
The bird flashed its bright eyes, and its wings beat the wind,
as it cried out the answer I knew,
It cried, the Norns may have cut and measured your thread,
but you hold the reigns to your horse.
With a too-ra-li-lay, falarali-ri-lay,
only you hold the reigns to your horse!
As the bird took to wing, singing brightly again,
I arrested the stride of my horse.
I considered the road, and whither it lead,
and turned my way back whence I came.
With a too-ra-li-lay, falarali-ri-lay,
my horse went back the way that I came.