MEMORY OF HAENSE - Poetry by Feodor May

[Sander 3156]

 

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CONTENT

-Child of Haense
-Untitled
-The Halfling
-Ballad of Khorvad
-Oren Knight's Wife Resumed
-Lament of Phaedrus
-Memory of Haense
-Flames of Reza
-The Refugee

 

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CHILD OF HAENSE
 

I was born in Haense
I have her sons as brethren
I have her ruler as my father
I have her pride as comfort
I have drunk the waters of her culture
I have made her past my own
I keep her boldness as my companion
I lost in her defeat and live in her victory
I breathe freely only in her climate
I know her treasures and her tribulations
I see her errors in all their beauty
And I have done my best, with others
To defend her interests

 

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UNTITLED

With the strength of a thousand daemons
The marble crest was clenched
Its razor-sharp tip soaked
With a wet darker than the void
And from that void sprung creation
Anything with meaning and without it
He who wields it unlimited in ability
Except by his twisted, vile and impure
Or noble, glorious and honest
Creativity, their will to create and
To put themselves through an effort
Sometimes small yet often great
And put a word on that paper
 

 

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THE HALFLING
 

He lives his life
To the fullest without regret
He finds great comfort
In the simple pleasures of it
He seeks no great gains
For twisted benefit
He greets and salutes
Every friend and stranger
He cherishes dearly

That which is worth loving
He chooses silence

Where silence suffices plainly
He celebrates loudly
In the tiniest of triumphs
He chooses not for venture
For he finds value in content
And though his vessel may be small
His soul is mightier and greater

The Halfling.

 

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BALLAD OF KHORVAD
 

In Aegis days of old Khorvad

There was no justice to be had

In Ironborn grip the land was held

And ancient tradition there was quelled

 

The tyrant Thorgarn there was lord

Who put the scholars to the sword

But not all would bow before his throne

Brave heroes would fight him to the bone

 

They gathered north at Mount Arvas

Where the Remnant of Urguan was

Formed by elder dwarven clans of old

Who'd fight for freedom rather than gold

 

Then lead by Simppa the exile

Forth went they to end Thorgarn's guile

Thus thirty years of war, death and strive

Were waged and marked ev'ry dwarf alive

 

For kinslaying Thorgarn no rest

There was during Simppa's great quest

He who put Kal'Urguan under siege

And in duel slew his horrid liege

 

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OREN KNIGHT'S WIFE RESUMED

 

Down in Oren there lives a knight
Known on the field for his might
But his wife’s a treasure
And so with pleasure
She lets in others during the night

 

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LAMENT OF PHAEDRUS

 

In forests, oh so dark and damp, where the old trees stand
Malin’s wind comes blowing and gives a voice unto the land

’Come hither to me oh withering wind and tell me a story please’
‘Tell me of Phaedrus Lhe’hileia, oh ancient and soft breeze.’
He was a strong and noble elf in Haelun’or of old
He saved the lives of two Sohaers, so valiant and bold
Yet the elves of Haelun’or were proud, and not of equal kind
Thus Phaedrus and his people left, for a new home they would find

‘Do now not stop oh perishing wind, draw yet another breath’
‘Please do tell more of Phaedrus before you find your death.’
He founded them a home anew with his elves of woodland kin
He built for them a fairer land, with the name of Laureh’lin
From there he fought the dark undead, with allies near and far
Yet banishment would befall to him, so away then went his star

‘Go on once more oh mouldering wind, for you have not finished yet’
‘Declare the end of Phaedrus’ tale, before to rest you’re let.’
He moved on to the sons of Krug who invited him as one

He learned their ways and magic there, but Phaedrus was not done
For a leader he was and a leader he’d be, an Elven Rex so vain
But Orcs are of the fighting kind, and so he’d end up slain.

‘Oh Phaedrus! An elf of tales, truly one of legend.’
‘But to tales you are now reduced, you found your end.’

 

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MEMORY OF HAENSE

Looking back on Haense
I see her quiet valleys
Eating away at
Snowy peaks

A town and village
With quiet alleys
That meander like
Her clear creeks

And in this sublime,
Rugged frontier
The keeps and castles
Stand proud, free and strong

The forests and homes
These people hold dear
Joined by the wildlife
In a Northern song

The wind blows strong there
With her cold clouds of snow storms
As it cloaks and smothers the
Rays of the sun

But in all of her counties
Her people always found forms
To fight the fight and endure
With a new dawn won

 

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FLAMES OF REZA
 

In the land of Arcas
The Emperor reigned proud
From his hold Helena
The trumpets echoed loud

He had been contested
He’d fought his pretender
He slew all the rebels
And burnt Ves’ splendor

Yet there was another
Fire that was engorged
In the flames of Reza
Freedoms desire was forged

Reza was a grand burg
Ruled by Hanseti’s King
Yet the pearl of the north
Slipped from its silver string

The war had begun there
And after it was done
The land was exhausted

And Reza had not won

We known’t how it started
The source that gave the spark
A candle, torch or oven
But the fire left a mark

For soon before they knew
The blazing heat it spread
In the flames of Reza
The old Haense it laid dead

Now the flames of Reza
Houses no longer burn
But in the northmen’s hearts
The flames they do still yearn.

 

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THE REFUGEE

 

Where do the crows fly?
Where does the rider roam?
Where stand the churches and taverns?
And where will the sun rise?

Where is the Waldenian’s wisdom?
And the Savoyard’s smile?
Where is the Ruskan’s sacrifice?
And the Hanseti’s honour?

Where have the fair brides gone?
And the feathers on the wind?
Where are the chalices?
Where is the light?

When the Boar made landfall,
When the King marched north,
When the Prince passed,
When the Auspice comes?

Where now the towering walls?
Where now shields and swords?
And the men in mail who charge?
Where are the dreams?

When the ages come crashing down,
When brothers falter,
When man wakes up and finds,
That it was all borrowed?
Where then?

 

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[tcs_tonsils_ 2829]

Borris Iver Kortrevich leaned back on the stone wall as he held writings close to his face. He read fervently, not setting the piece down until he was finished. He read the last word, then slapped the piece of parchment with the back slide of his hand. “Da! Excellent! Another poet around. Perhaps ea shall meet him vone day.”