The World to him, who sings my song,
for I am the Font, the Spirit of the Deepest Deep,
and mine is the first heart to beat your blood.
The World to him, who sings my song.
This is Imimorul saying anyone that sings his song (the rest of the poem?) will get the World.
And that he is the proginator of those singers, which could technically be either the Nonmen or Humans?
I, Imimorul, fled the Heavens,
so much did I love the brooks that chirrup,
the high mountains that hiss,
the myriads that bolt through this blessed hair,
Imimorul was a God of some description who loved the world, and so left Heaven (The Outside) to live among the Inside.
The World to him, who raises up rooves in the Deep.
I, Imimorul, did flee the Starving [sky], so much did I fear the Heavens,
the wrath of those who were wroth, who would forbid my love,
of the myriads of the World.
Worth noting that the depths of the world seem to be the beginning of the world, or at least the parts Imimorul loves most deeply.
Feeling the Sky once he's in the world, afraid that the heavens could see/stop him. So he flees underground.
"Myriads of the world" here meaning all the different things of the world? Living creatures, plants, the ground and the caverns.
The World to her, who kindles her fire in the Deep.
More about the Holy Deep, but who is "her".
I, Imimorul, did cut from my hand my fingers,
and from my arm, my hand, and from my body, my arm,
and these pieces of me I did place in the wombs of Lions,
so that I might dwell content in my own company.
He cuts off his fingers, hand, arm. Gives the bits to Lions. These bits become his children (dwelling in his own company). Unless they become his clones, to literally dwell in his own company.
And I became One-Armed, Imimorul, the Unshielded.
This might have some poetic meaning beyond the obvious "shielded" because he cut off his shield arm.
And you were as children to me,
the form of Gods as the issue of Lions, sons who would father nations,
and daughters who would mother the myriads of the World.
The phalanges he put into lions become his children who sired nations.
Interestingly, its the Men who fathered nations.
The Nonmen Women are something of an enigma even here. They did not mother nations, but rather became "the myriads of the World". Earlier, it looks like myriads is being used to describe the inaniment world, or maybe both the ground/depths itself as well the creatures living among it.
Also, these Nonmen from Lions are not from women. It could be the nonmen women are not necessarily human-analogue shaped. That the nonmen actually are birth from the beasts of the world. Though, I don't think this really fits in with the lore we assume we know.
And I sang to you such songs as are only heard in the highest of Heavens, and nowhere in the Hells.
We did weep together, as we sang, for woe cares not for names or glory only that skin blackens for bruising, breaks for blood.
Heaven and NOT Hell. There are at least two distinct possibilities, no more. I'm not sure what the ramifications are for a hell that has no songs of nonmen.
And a penchant for remembering only sorrow, blood, and pain. Maybe the Erratics are no so different than what Nonmen always became later in life?
The World to him, who sings my song.
Pretty clear, discussed initially above
The World to him, who finds me in the Deep.
A final reference to what is basically The Holy Deep. This, if its the Nonmen creation myth, really explains why they are obsessed with the underground. It seems they believe their God lives in the Earth, not the Sky.
The World to him, and woe.
The suffering motif to end it. Not redemption or Eden, only more sorrow. Maybe this is why they seek oblivion as well, someplace that is neither the Woe that is their god, nor the Hunger that is the Gods.
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