The Troubles - An Anthology by Dietrich van Jungingen

[TH3GHOSTWAFFL3 489]

 

 

 

Sir Dietrich van Jungingen KML (Naumarian: Diedrik van Jungingen) (1696 - 1787) was a Hansetian writer and poet who was Hanseti-Ruska’s ‘national poet’, in various official and unofficial capacities, from the middle of the reign of King Marius II (1707 - 1719) to that of King Josef I (1769 - Present). He was among the most famous writers of the time, most renowned for his patriotic and wartime poetry; he served in both the catastrophic War of the Two Emperors (1715 - 1721) and the even more horrific Rubern War (1740 - 1760), shaping unflinchingly pro-Haense worldview and sense of the necessity of sacrifice by the individual for the collective.

 

 

 

THE TROUBLES

 

BY

SIR DIETRICH VAN JUNGINGEN KML

322 ES | 1769 AH

 

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PREFACE

 

I am not one to write a lengthy introduction for my own works, as I know that it will simply bore any reader - but if I do not, I will not be satisfied, for I am conscious that these poems cannot stand simply bundled together with a title.

Here, then, is your preface: the works contained herein were written during the bloodsoaked, lawless years of the Troubles. They encapsulate the spirit of the age - the raw horror and violence, the murders of children and the ruthless, domineering cruelty of power-hungry men. Read, then, and recoil. 

 

Above: A scene from the Rubern War, depicting the cruelty of the men of Morsgrad.

 

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THE IMPERIAL PEASANT

 

I walk often through these sodden fields

And mine tired eyes do often see

A weeded land with barren yields

Where a poor man slaves in misery

For meager pay, no real reward;

A thankless job, for his thankless lord.

 

No clothes upon his wretched back

Save tattered rags, wet with fog

And a cheap, filthy, worthless sack

Shot with holes, not fit for a dog

Let alone for a man made by God;

Yet forced to suffer a strong birch rod.

 

At his side he bears a mark of war

And when he toils it creaks and groans

For once to the Emperor he swore

And fought, yet nobody even hears his moans

For nobody cares for those like him;

See how his body is bony and slim.

 

His wife clings to his side in the rain

A woman with nothing to her name

And nothing but death to hope to gain

For when he dies, there's nothing to claim

And no money to pay for a marked grave;

For this wretched man is paid as a slave.

 

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THE CALLING OF THE WILL

 

Our union's been slighted, here's a fight -

When your Empire calls will you assist?

Here comes war, to cowards' fright -

For freedom's sake will you enlist?

Here's your home, in the enemy's sight -

When Morsgrad comes will you raise your fist?

Here comes Godric, duke of blight -

In foul tyranny's face will you resist?

Here comes war, the long black night - 

We'll perish, if we do not persist!

 

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THE GLORIES OF STRUGGLE

 

I saw a woman, sat by the wayside

Once a low noble, now starving and shaking

I saw with dismay her tears as she cried

Her poor, emaciated body's aching

Her traumatised mind's close to shattering.

 

She calls for her mother, killed in this war

She calls for her lover, struck down in battle

The poor thing begs for bread, or a bed of straw

And begs for alms. She lives worse than cattle

And soon she'll die, and pass tragically unmourned.

 

This is war: indiscriminate sorrow.

This is the 'struggle' of which sick Godric speaks

In high, praising tones.This is the tomorrow 

He offers us. His misguided vengeance reeks

Of vain, blind 'justice' for entire peoples.

 

This is his 'struggle'; pointless destruction

Driven by a proud whip of 'retribution'

Smothered with fake humility's seduction

And disguised as reason, war's solution:

He's blind to the pointless deaths he causes.

 

Godric, of course, wouldn't spare that woman's life.

He looks past her cries and her ragged clothes

For Godric can't risk that she'll be a wife

For she's nothing but a 'future font of foes'

So for her noble birth she must die, of course.

 

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RAIDERS!

 

Look south! A column of smoke rises, 

Far away, far off in the distance.

They'll now be looting stolen prizes -

Those raiders, I mean, squashing resistance.

 

It's the second attack this fortday,

The second poor farm to fall that is.

Maybe the army'll make them pay -

But those bandits, they'll be off in a whizz.

 

Are they from Norland? Or Elves, or Orcs?

There's no way of knowing right now.

Perhaps we'll tell from the wounds of a corpse -

Anyway, we always find out somehow.

 

The horizon, see it cloud, dusty;

Those men are moving off - surprising.

These didn't stay long - these weren’t lusty -

But look west! A column is rising!

 

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JUSTICE

 

 

The judge looms over the convicted,

A wig of steel sat upon his solemn brow.

He's ready to sentence, unrestricted.

The criminal, she cowers in a bow.

 

There's no jury, no risk of dissent.

Defendants or subpoenas, a petition,

The judge does not care, he does not relent.

The judge demands complete submission.

 

The small child, she cries, her eyes bleed tears.

This is not a satisfactory defence.

Her innocence and her eleven years

Will not save her. Justice will now commence.

 

The judge raises high his station's sign - 

The sword, where legitimacy arises.

Between law and crime there's no real line;

Death is a sentence that fits all sizes.

 

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A FINAL DEATH?

 

The darkness is quiet tonight.

Now, life seems instant and War's breath

Comes fitful in the singular moment.

The stars glance at man's folly

And wait, eager to look upon a new world.

 

The waning moon gleams on a bloody sword.

And as he wipes the thirsting thing clean of gore

The blades of grass seem to melt in the wind.

He sheathes his blade, and finally

The instrument of death is forgotten.

 

There are no mourners,

None for this wretched creature,

This murderer and destroyer.

He sits, dying in a blood soaked world,

With the weight of thousands dead upon him.

 

He throws off his armour,

He casts down his spear, he feels

His bloody and endless sweat

Cool and disappear in a peaceful wind.

His heavy eyelids close for the first time.

 

Mankind is freed.

For now

 

Edited December 16, 2020 by TH3GHOSTWAFFL3