Wednesday, May 18, 2011

Terzanelle: "The Merry Maying"

The banners of the golden sun, are spread athwart the cloud
King Arthur's knights are stirring in their sleep
And all along the cobbled streets the hooves are sounding loud
And the Naiads bask where water willows weep
Can we not rise with Arthur, when England's in its drear?
King Arthur's knights are stirring in their sleep
Can they not wake for just a month, in play and not in fear
Why must it be our greatest need that brings them wide-awake
Can we not rise with Arthur, when England's in its drear?
Let all have picnics by the spring, their sleepborn thirsts to slake
And at the springs let Pegaiai, bear wonders on their brows
Why must it be our greatest need that brings them wide-awake
And the Krenaiai rise from fountains, with all that joy allows
Let Romance bear its shining swords, although our backs are bent
And at the springs let Pegaiai, bear wonders on their brows
Let all forget that fairy gold will very soon be spent
The banners of the golden sun, are spread athwart the cloud
Let Romance bear its shining swords, although our backs are bent
And all along the cobbled streets the hooves are sounding loud

Simon BJ

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