Pagan music

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Damh the Bard

pagan music

Dargunz

Beautiful Music

Pagan Music

01 Guided By Venus

Antlered Crown and Standing Stone

(Damh the Bard)

A rousing anthem dedicated to the male principle of nature – the Pagan Horned God. Continuing the theme of previous songs such as Green and Grey, Noon of the Soltice and Pipes of Pan. This is a song to honour Cernunnos, Pan, Herne, and the Green Man.

I am the face within the leaves,
I’m the voice within the trees,
I am boy, I am man,
The face of the changing land,
And I have been your constant guide,
From your caves on the mountainside,
We have walked hand in hand.

And everywhere that I have been,
My passing turns the grey to green,
The birds sing to the dawn,
And the land has awoken,
Oh my lady lays with me,
And our love weaves a tapestry,
Eternal threads, unbroken.

(Chorus)
I am lover, I am father,
I am Horned God and King,
I’m the life in all of nature,
That is reborn every Spring.
Call of stag and cry of eagle,
I am Child of Barleycorn,
And I am the antlered crown,
And standing stone.

I am the oats the corn and grain,
A bearded man with a crooked cane,
Cut me down, I must die,
For the land to be born again.
But don’t you cry and don’t you grieve,
For soon the Wild Hunt I will lead,
On the night of Samhain.

The air is cold, the sky is grey,
Where am I this Winter’s day,
Bones of trees, fallen leaves,
The time of the Winter Queen,
But through the wind and snow and rain,
Know that a part of me remains,
Holly stands, evergreen.

Antlered Crown And Standing Stone from Antlered Crown And Standing Stone

Land, Sky and Sea
(Damh the Bard)

The ancient Celtic peoples seemed to have revered three elements instead of the usual four found in the Western Magical tradition – these being Land, Sky and Sea. I’m sure that fire would have featured somewhere because we know that they also revered the Sun. But here’s a song that speaks of the Wild Places, and my connection to them.

You are the rock, and you are the stone,
Rivers your blood, mountains your bone.
You are the Source, of all I’ll ever know,
Forever my Mother, forever my home.

(Chorus)
Oh this town is so cold,
Neon magicians they offer the fools their gold.
For there is a place I’d rather be,
In your wild places with the Land and the Sky and the Sea

Every step, follows those gone before,
Mystics and Saints, down to the shore,
Echoing waves, and the curlew’s cry,
A call out your name, and hear your reply.

Cynical thoughts, and lies that distort,
All that is true, all that is true,
They disappear, when I feel that you’re near,
When I’m with you, when I’m with you.

Land Sky And Sea from The Cauldron Born

Samhain Eve

(Damh the Bard)

Modern Halloween can seem a little commercial these days, but there was a time when, for some, this night was filled with fear. Some of the old Celtic tales tell of the way that, at Samhain, the veil between the world is at its thinnest. The Faerie, and the dead walk this earth once more. So let’s bring a bit more of the fear-factor into this sacred night, but not a fear borne of fright, but of awe.

Close the door, keep out the storm,
Far away, far away,
Keep the need-fires burning til dawn,
Oh, leave my soul.
For the cold will come this night,
From far away, far away,
Frost will fall ,and ice will bite,
Oh leave my soul.

Bridge 1:
Oh leave my soul,
Please pass me by when the evening falls,
Oh blessed are we,
The Taker of Souls we shall see.
On Samhain Eve.

I can hear the Hunter’s hounds
Far away, far away,
I will cast the Circle round,
Oh leave my soul.
Raven-witch I feel your breath,
Far away, far away,
Bringing with you Summer’s death,
Oh leave my soul.

Sunrise, the tolling bell,
Far away, far away,
Breaks the Raven-witches spell,
Oh blessed are we.
The leaves of the Oaken King,
Fade away, fade away,
Feed the seeds that will come in Spring
Oh blessed are we.

Bridge 2:
Oh blessed are we,
Summer will come with the May on the tree,
Oh hail to the Queen,,
And under the Sun we shall sing,
To call in the Spring.

Samhain Eve from Hills they are Hollow

Horses

Natura, arte, storia, spirito e buona tavola alla scoperta delle tradizioni dei nostri antenati, dall’epoca Medievale in cui i Cavalieri Templari difendevano la Terra Santa e i suoi misteri fino al Rinascimento con Lucrezia Borgia governatrice del Ducato di Spoleto.

Un viaggio ricco di scoperte e curiosità che ha il potere di affascinare il cuore e lo spirito del lettore, dove le parole si trasformano in un Alchemia di Musica, provando nell'anima Emozioni e Gioia Infinita.

È un vero piacere poter offrire questo mio contributo, attraverso una scelta di brani musicali medievali (No Profit), per valorizzare e far conoscere la storia per non dimenticare i nostri eroi, re e regine, cavalieri e dame...,che hanno lasciato a noi la loro eredità, anche attraverso la Buona Musica.

MAY THE CIRCLE BE OPEN

Copyright by Counting Clouds
GoFish Records 2014, GoFish Records 2014
Producer: Mike Wornath
Vocals: Vionna Chamberlain, Minette Fourie
Guitar: Gary Lee Rollins
Sax: Rainer Winschermann
Violin: Gautam Karnik
Bass: Mark A. Coradetti
Piano: Clifford Borg

I Will Wait For You

Kash Kash by SJ Tucker

A tale for Lughnasadh by Cerri Lee

“If you stand here for long enough all life passes you by.” he expounded sagely to no one in particular.

The golden barley swayed in the gentle breeze; The collective bearded heads nodding in what appeared to be, at least to him, considered agreement.

A large dragonfly hummed past skimming the heads of the barley.

“Well at least they seem to be doing alright this year,” he said to the world in general, “Its been a hard few years for them, well for everyone really, my oath it has! I don’t know, Summers are not like they used to be.” He rambled on in the time honoured fashion of old men who lean on fence posts everywhere.

“I remember a time when Summer meant warmth and sunshine, long hazy days with children running in the fields, and the happy sounds of bees buzzing through the crops. These days it seems to be one long winter with a brief break for rain instead of snow!’ If he could have shaken his head ruefully he would have done.

The Barley continued to nod thoughtfully as the sun beat down on the field.

“Mind you,” he continued informationally “there was a time when the fields where not so big and the weather was just as dodgy as it has been lately. I think they called it the ‘little ice age’, snow drifts up to your arm pits there was. So would seem to me the weather patterns are up and down like a doxies bloomers, if you take the long view, not that I know much about doxies you understand” he said and chuckled.

The barley pointedly said nothing on the subject.

A pair of sky larks rose up out of the field and began to sing incessantly flitting back and forward, landing on a post or taller plant here or there, then rising up again, renewing their frantic song.

“Whats got their tails in a twist?” he mused.

If it had been possible he would have craned his neck for a better view into the barley, but instead he settled for a guessing game as to who had disturbed the little pair. “Might be a stoat or could be a weasel, or might be one of them cats from the farm yard wandering about causing trouble.”

The birds seemed to quieten down after a bit and settled back into what ever it is that skylarks are want to do.

“Oh, whatever it was has got bored and left them alone. Well that’s my bit of drama done for the day then” he sniffed disconsolately.

Presently a cat came sauntering out of the barley and stood in front of him. “Ah it was you was it?” he said. The cat looked up, eyed him suspiciously, then sat down to lick its paws and clean its face.

“I hope you haven’t been murdering any of those little fledglings,” he said reproachfully to the preening cat “I have been watching them grow all season and I have grown fond of them little tikes.”

The cat ignored him and continued to clean assiduously before finally standing up. Then with a flick of its perfectly groomed tail, aimed in his general direction, it stalked off.

“Charming!” he thought.

The sun was high in the sky making the shadows cling close to their makers; the air was still leaving the barley almost motionless.

“I am glad of this hat to keep that sun at bay, battered and torn it may be, but there was never a better hat than this. Had it for years I have.  And this old jacket too, though the buttons could do with a bit of attention, hanging by a thread one of them, but still, it keeps out the worst of the weather.” He assessed his apparel with some pride.

“I dare say some as would venture it is a bit the worse for wear, but well, it does for me working out here in the field.”

The sultry afternoon wore on, the shadows lengthened and he watched as the light began to throw an orange glow into the golden barley.

“You are ready old friend, I know that colour in your beard. You and me John, you and me, we will take that long road together.” There was a wistful note in his words and the barley seemed to whisper an accord, and, as if to echo the sentiment, a crow issued out over the field, a long, low, throaty call.

“They will sing to you old friend, that they will. There where three men came out of the west, their fortunes for to try……” He sang with a dusty voice. “I love that song, that I do” he laughed.

“But no song for me, eh John? No song for me.” There was no bitterness in his words “I don’t mind, really I don’t. I love my time here, and like you, I will be back next year, though I would like it if they would sew my button back on, maybe patch up these trousers a bit. Them mice have made fair ol’ mess out o’ them this year and no mistake.”

“Come on Daddy, I want to see ol’ Charlie.” The scruffy child ran ahead of her father who was walking slowly through the barley, feeling the heads and sometimes bending to smelling them.

“I’m coming; ol’ Charlie’s not going anywhere tonight, is he?” he called and continued to amble through the field. He was taking his time, drinking in the atmosphere, the marmalade light, the smell of the barley and the earth, it all made his heart sing.

“Come on” the impatient child urged. Her father laughed as he looked to see where she had gone. He looked in the direction of ol’ Charlie’ and saw the barley moving under the onslaught of the robust and determined six year old.

“Look Dad, there have been mice living in his pockets again. We will have to get Mum to sew them up.” The girl looked up at Charlie for a moment, then turned and threw her arms around her Dad’s legs.

“We will make him again next year wont we Dad?” her face almost pleading.

“Of course,” He confirmed “you can’t have John Barley Corn alone in the field, wouldn’t be right!”

“And we will still burn him when we cut the fields, just like last year?” she looked so seriously at her father he did not laugh.

“You know we will, he has to take our messages and gifts with him doesn’t he?” The farmer said “It’s what we have always done on this farm, when you make a bargain you keep it, especially if it’s with the one who keeps you in food and lodgings, it doesn’t do to make Her sad by forgetting your promises. We will make sure his hat and clothes are nicely cleaned and mended for next year, but the rest of him will go on the fire, and, this year I have decided to write him a song to send him on his way. Now come on lets get back your Mum will have tea on the table soon and I am starving, race you!”

Ol’ Charlie watched as the pair ran back across the field, “My own song eh? Well there you go, did you hear that John? I will have a song after all.”

A fat pigeon came down and landed on his arm which creaked under the weight. The bird eyed the field, “And you can bugger off an all” said ol’ Charlie.

A Tale for Lughnasadh by Cerri Lee

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Free Download

The Moon And The Nightspirit - Alkonyvarázs (Kilbnation Remix)

The Moon And The Nightspirit - Rögből Élet

Song: Noon of the Solstice
Artist: Damh The Bard
Album: Spirit Of Albion

In times long past
Lived a Man of green,
And his footsteps brought life wherever he'd been.
In the deepest wildwood
Was the place he was seen,
And the people did love
And protect him.
And they saw his face change,
With the turn of the Wheel
Of the Seasons,
They heard his voice sing.

(Chorus)
I'm the Horned God,
I'm the face in the trees,
I'm the breath of the wind that rustles the leaves,
I'm the Green Man
In the wildwood I roam,
Cernunnos, I'm Pan and I'm Herne.

I shall be as the Dark Holly King,
Darkness and cold
In my cloak I will bring,
And on Winter's nights
To me you will sing,
Till the air around me starts changing,
And on the noon of the solstice
I'll give up my crown,
To the Light
And the Mighty Oak King. 

All Summer long
I shall rule just and fair,
Bring your crops to fruit
With the light that I share,
With fire and water,
From earth into air,
But the Wheel it keeps
Steadily turning.
And on the noon of the Solstice
I'll give up my crown,
To the cold and the Dark Holly King.

T'is now modern times
And the Summer is here,
The Winter has gone
And the air it is clear,
On a fine day I walked
Through a woods I live near,
When a battle I spied
Through a clearing,
Two giants of leaves,
One light and one dark,
Even now the Wheel it is turning!

Noon Of The Solstice

Amon Amarth - With Oden On Our Side cover

Wendy Rule gives meaning to the word unique…
Sweeping melodies, emotive vocals and the ability to haunt the mind like a lingering spirit.  Beat Magazine, Melbourne


03 - Oblivion

"The Pursuit Of Vikings" from the "Fate of Norns".

Amon Amarth "The Pursuit Of Vikings"

"Cry Of The Black Birds" from "With Oden On Our Side".

Amon Amarth "Cry Of The Black Birds"

Obsession Damh the bard

The Moon And The Nightspirit - Tüzben Születö Live

The Moon And The Nightspirit - The Secret Path

The Moon and the Nightspirit -Öregerdő

Amon Amarth "Deceiver of the Gods" from the album "Deceiver of the Gods"

Amon Amarth "Deceiver of the Gods"

Acoustic Guitar Instrumental - Almost Forgotten

Cloak Of Feathers - Damh The Bard

Instrumental Acoustic Guitar Song (Untitled #1)

Pipes Of Pan - Damh The Bard

Requiem for a Dream - Acoustic Guitar Cover

Omnia - I don't speak Human

Shadow Of The Moon

"Father of the Wolf" from "Deceiver of the Gods."

Buy from Metal Blade

Amon Amarth "Father of the Wolf"

Cold and bright the solstice dawn breaks through the heol-stone gate,
Time out of mind the stones have stood marking the zenith and the nadir of the sun’s journey across the sky.
Cut by our ancient hands, with stone on stone they were shaped and pulled from the earth’s embrace,
Mile on mile moved and with magic raised upon this sacred land.
And at this time of the Solstice,
The Holly King waits within the Stones.
He waits in darkness, and stillness,
For the coming of the dawn,
The rising of the Sun,
And the footsteps of his Oaken-leafed brother.
Whilst the Awen……is sung.

Brother, what is your name?

To which the Oak King replies,
Not hard to answer!
I am Hafgan, Lord of the Waxing Year,
I am the King of Oak,
I bring bud to leaf,
Bring life to the Earth,
I banish the cold of Winter,
And welcome the warmth of Spring,
And you my brother, what is your name?

To which the Holly King replies,
Not hard to answer!
I am Arawn, Lord of the Waning Year,
I am the King of Holly,
I strip bare your leaf-ridden trees,
I bring darkness to this land,
……and peace,
I banish the warmth of Summer
And welcome the iciness of Winter.
Brother, where do you come from?

To which the Oak King replies,
Not hard to answer!
I come from Annwn, the Otherworld.
And at the time of your greatest power I am born into this world of Abred,
Called by the singing of the Birds of Rhiannon,
The warmth of my breath, and my seed, awakens the life within my Queen,
And the land is bathed in the beauty of our love,
Whilst Annwn is ruled by Winter and Ice,
So Abred blossoms, caressed by the heat of my gazing eye.
And you my brother, where do you come from?

To which the Holly King replies,
Not hard to answer!
I come from Annwn, the Otherworld,
And at the time of your greatest power I am born into this world of Abred,
I ride on Rhiannon’s horse to claim my throne,
Laughing with the Wild Hunt I ride through the night sky,
My cold breath will make way for the coming of the Cailleach,
And the land will be bathed in the beauty of ice and darkness,
Whilst Annwn blossoms, in your heat,
So Abred will have peace, reflection, and renewal,
Guarded by Orion of the Silver Belt.
Brother, what art do you perform?

To which the Oak King replies,
Not hard to answer!
I lift the saddened heart,
Bring life to death,
Shape the hidden green,
Give flight to birds and insects,
My Bards sing upon their wing,
My orchestra plays music within the wind,
Life returns, and in that space where thought becomes dream,
Lovers walk upon the warm earth,
And lay under the stars, and the Sun, together.
And you my Brother, what art do you perform?

To which the Holly King replies,
Not hard to answer!
I give space to thought,
Bring renewal from death,
Bring rest to life, transformation to your crown of green,
I light the inner fire, and the hearth,
And quicken the heart of the beast,
My Bards are the stillness of the winter sky,
The reflection on the water,
The tears of the ice,
Life returns to that place where dreams are forgathered,
Lovers lie before the flickering fires in their homes,
And new life is nourished as my Lady strips bare the branches,
And lays her cloak across the land.
And I am here my Brother, to take my crown.

Then take this crown, but know this –
Even though you begin your rule,
My heat will grow,
My fire will ripen the fruit,
Turn the fields from green to gold,
And warm the oceans.
For although you take the power of light.
I retain the power of heat,
Until your Lady joins you,
At Samhain.

Cloak Of Feathers - Damh The Bard

Just_Bob