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Petreyzbailden (Petyr's Ballad)


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Petreyzbaliden (literally, Petyr’s Ballad) is a song commemorating King Petyr I and his actions at the Battle of Curon Forest. It was written a lengthy time after his death by the Haeseni Strannik (poet-knight) Sir Stanimar Vyronov in the early 150s ES, during the rising storm of the bloodiest moments in the Coalition Wars, and was particularly scathing to the Kingdom of Courland, one the belligerents of the war. This poem was also written shortly after the murder of Prince Meric of Aleksandria by the bastardborn Diedrik Barrow, which sparked a major political crisis culminating in the First Northern War and the exile of the royal court.

 

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PETREYZBAILDEN

AKA

PETYR’S BALLAD

 

WRITTEN BY THE HAND OF

STANIMAR VYRONOV

 

TRANSLATED BY THE HAND OF

HIEROMAR LUDOVAR THE ELDER, SSE

 

PUBLISHED BY

HIEROMAR LUDOVAR THE ELDER, SSE

 

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PETREYSBAILDEN (PETYR’S BALLAD)

 

Who was the fiercest of the crows to fly in the land,

And the noblest of lords in Sigmund’s clan?

 

Twas Petyr, Petyr, redeemer of his father’s blood,

Victorious in great numbers much to your rivals’ woe

Honorable in action and word, chivalrous without flaw

Stalwart defender of the Highlander’s call

 

Petyr, Petyr, hear the people’s pleas

For the treachery of the Curonese is plain to see,

The serpent taken from his stone in the night,

And now we will fight for what is our right!

 

Petyr, Petyr, take upon the spurs of war,

And restore the Kraken’s sons as the rightful lords!

With the Griffin and Shark among your sons,

Their armies you will surely repugn!

 

Petyr, Peytr, the vanguard you command,

With Rickard and Bloody Fiske as your hands,

Hurry upon the road and hurry fast,

Godan’s judgment upon the Staunt’ has come at last!

 

Petyr, Petyr, take your sword high,

As we meet upon the wooded hills nigh,

The spurs of war in your hand clenched,

As your spear comes blood of Courland drenched!

 

Petyr, Petyr, sound your mighty ‘phent,

And let your sons descend upon the glen,

And they cry for for the gifts of mercy and life,

But in dishonor you lived and in dishonor you will die!

 

Petyr, Petyr, who charged cross the river fro’,

Directly into the enemy’s speared fold,

Yet hit not was he, for in Godan he rode,

Like the heroes of the Vochna of yore!

 

Petyr, Petyr, the son of sparrow’s mate,

And the picture of Rosebud incarnate!

Through your leadership you gave us home,

And never in your kin were you alone!

 

Petyr, Petyr, the first of our koengs,

Forever his name will go down in our songs,

Loyal to Godan and His Emperor Lord,

Saving the Empire from the grips of total disorder!

 

Petyr, Petyr, the greatest of ‘sanders stock!

Never can his noble deed and action ever be mocked!

Always the sword of Joren at your side,

For in honor you lived and in honor you died!

 

Petyr, Petyr, never a dead of such mourned!

And the men and women cried to such a woe’d!

Here must we hold our lord taken afar!

Remembered always in Godan’s stars!

 

Petyr, Petyr, your name will live on,

And never will ever bring it wrong,

As he was the fiercest of the crows to fly in the land,

And the noblest of lords in Sigmund’s clan!

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