methods and arts

All safe in our hiding-holes buried below we weather wild winters with faces aglow. There's vents for the fires that keep us here warm and plenty of food-stores to feed us through storms and wells for our water and blankets for night and dances and merriment for our delight. For miles they extend our well-maintained caves where we escape snowfall or months weeks and days; they help us stay fresh for the battles we'll fight against such fool nations as our borders slight. We go up for training and line up in ranks then march off through wind-gusts and piled snow-banks then march back to warm up our chilled bones again – each of us who can walk all women and men. The tubers are safe in their stout wooden stores and stout is the wood of our out-facing doors and stout is the fire that burns in our hearts as are our Grigovian methods and arts.

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