Exile

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I heard the voice of the crane
calling loudly, calling men to the plough.
And it struck my heart black
that others hold my fair-flowering fields.

Theognis, c 550 BC, in exile

This reminded us of the moment in the sagas when the hero Gunnar, about to go into exile, is riding away from home:

His horse stumbled in the stony ford and threw him, and he chanced to look backward.

“Fair is the lyth”, he said,”I never thought it so fair. Blake (yellow) are its acres, and green its meadows. I will ride home and never leave it.” And in spite of warning and entreaty, he left his brother and rode back.

A death sentence, as Gunnar well knew.

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