Da ich noch für ne RPG Szene meines Skalden ein Gedicht über was Nordisches brauche, hab ich tatsächlich vor ein paar Tagen ein Gedicht über die Wilde Jagd geschrieben. Hab mich von so Schreckensgedichten wie "Erlenkönig" und "MacBeth" inspirieren lassen.
Ist auf Englisch und ich hab seit der Oberstufe nicht mehr dichten müssen
Also nicht wundern wenn meine Reimbastelei manchmal etwas
ist. Edit: Oh shit, und es sieht hässlich lang aus so im Forum :X
The night was misty, dark and cold, but silent as the blinking moon.
Taking on my arms and cloak, the watch is starting for me soon.
The camp lies nearly quiet, sleepy breathings come to my ears.
My brethren in rest from the journey, but one in front of me appears:
"You up at night, why don't you rest?
Are you afraid robbers show up
Making our lifes to stop?
A knife long and cold within our chest?"
"Its not a knife nor a bloody thief
It is the night that does the grief.
The signs are clear as the moon shines bright
The hunt is coming this lone night."
His loughing gives me a blush in the face.
"Ain't you see their mystic trace?
Without a watch the hunt will take..."
He interrupts:
"Oh for heaven's sake!
Believe it but do your bloody watch alone!
The darkness will not even make me frown.
No fairy tales will break my sleep
That will be peaceful, nice and deep."
Now sitting there alone, staring at the forest depths.
Turning my eyes here and there, between the misty treeline gaps.
The fear lies sick on my very soul, and shadows drive the stars to die.
The moonlight fades as the clouds come close as womans lids when she is shy.
Noises of creatures the forest spits out, shrieking and roaring for their prey.
It makes me shiver like leaves in the wind, but for my friends i have to stay.
Cold touches my twitching cheek.
In my neck i feel a tweak.
I know for sure there will be none.
But i wish it would be gone.
"Mah little mortal, why so timorous?
Nae restful snores as yer friends does?"
A fierce and hollow voice appears!
And chains me to my oldest fears!
My head goes around like a lighthouses top
But again the voice brings my head to stop.
"Ye looking for me? A tale come true?
Yer nightmares aer sweet but nothin' new."
A cloak that soaks all courage, like dry soil the spreaded water,
Holes everywhere, within mere void, like drips of blood after a slaughter.
An empty hood with two lonely spots of flickering light
Gives him an apparent face and a purely dreadful sight.
A crown, his symbol of terror and reign
Two antlers attached to the sides of the ring.
It speaks of endless horror and pain
The worlds end to call and bring.
"Oh Lord of the Hunt! Please spare my life!
I have two children and a wife.
I have never done a wrong.
I'm neither wealthy nor am i strong."
His claws like branches point at my face:
"Ye aer beggin for mah grace?
I will spare yer rotten soul!"
And blows out a shattering howl.
"Ye fear and horror let's mah tale live on
Nightmares o' boys and girls never gone!
Childrens tears aer mah lovin' drink.
Sweetest o' tastes, ain't ye think?
Courage as yer friend demonstrate
Will bring oblivion to fright an'dread
So ye aer givin' mah deed a spread
Of yer brethrens ugly fate!"
Howling and yowling like a pack,
voices arise like wolves on the track!
Together with my harrowing scream
Hitting my forehead to end the dream!
Coiling up, my head to the legs
Cracking and munching attending my begs.
I whine and pray to the heavens above!
Crying in terror until i must cough.
The sounds stopped soon but my fear never will
Lying there for hours, harken to the still.
As sun touches me, warm and bright
I get up my sorrowed tear-blurred sight.
But my brethren are not there.
Only tons of blood are everywhere.
I'm a broken man, my Children gone away
'Cause my wife no longer wanted to stay.
So I tell on the story of this agony
As the Wild Hunt told me as its prophecy.
