#cantonment

Return this man to Huma's breast:

Let him be lost in sunlight,

In the chorus of air where breath is translated;

At the sky's border receive him.

Beyond the wild, impartial skies

Have you set your lodgings,

In cantonments of stars, where the sword aspires

In an arc of yearning, where we join in singing.

Grant to him a warrior's rest.

Above our singing, above song itself,

May the ages of peace converge in a day,

May he dwell in the heart of Paladine.

And set the last spark of his eyes

In a fixed and holy place

Above the words and the borrowed land too loved

As we recount the ages.

Free from the smothering clouds of war

As he once rose in infancy,

The long world possible and bright before him,

Lord Huma, deliver him.

Upon the torches of the stars

Was mapped the immaculate glory of childhood;

From that wronged and nestling country,

Lord Huma, deliver him.

Let the last surge of his breath

Perpetuate wine, the attar of flowers;

From the vanguard of love, the last to surrender,

Lord Huma, deliver him.

Take refuge in the cradling air

From the heart of the sword descending,

From the weight of battle on battle;

Lord Huma, deliver him.

Above the dreams of ravens where

His dreams first tried a rest beyond changing,

From the yearning for war and the war's ending,

Lord Huma, deliver him.

Only the hawk remembers death

In a late country; from the dusk,

From the fade of the senses, we are thankful that you,

Lord Huma, deliver him.

Then let his shade to Huma rise

Out of the body of death, of the husk unraveling;

From the lodging of mind upon nothing, we are thankful that you,

Lord Huma, deliver him.

Beyond the wild, impartial skies

Have you set your lodgings,

In cantonments of stars, where the sword aspires

In an arc of yearning, where we join in singing.

Return this man to Huma's breast

Beyond the wild, impartial skies;

Grant to him a warrior's rest

And set the last spark of his eyes

Free from the smothering clouds of wars

Upon the torches of the stars.

Let the last surge of his breath

Take refuge in the cradling air

Above the dreams of ravens where

Only the hawk remembers death.

Then let his shade to Huma rise

Beyond the wild, impartial skies.