Once in this time when the summer blood
Knocked in the flesh that decked the vine
Once in this bread, the summer wind
The oat was merry in the wind;
Man broke the oath, spilled it down.
This bread I break was once the oat,
This wine upon a foreign tree
Thrown in its fruit;
Man in the day or wine at night
Laid the crops low, broke the grape's it’s joy.