Ekaterina Shelehova - Savage Daughter

I am my mother's savage daughter. The one who runs barefoot, cursing sharp stones. I will not cut my hair, I will not lower my voice. My mother's child is a savage, looking for omens in the colors of stones, the faces of cats, the falling of feathers, the dancing of fire, and the curve of old bones. She sings heathen songs by the light of the moon, watches the stars, renames the planets, and dreams she can reach them with a song and a broom. We are all brought forth out of darkness into this world, through blood and through pain, and deep in our bones, the old songs are waking. So sing them with voices of thunder and rain. We are our mother's savage daughters, the ones who run barefoot cursing sharp stones, and we will not cut our hair, we will not lower our voice.