The Riders

Upon the fields the dark night spread.
They lay a long time fully covered,
The desert star its pale light shed
From cloudy heavens where it hovered.
And as the fire now ceased to blaze,
In misty unbelieving darkness,
Upon the heights in all their starkness
Two silent camps stood in the haze.
All slept, rebellious billows’ grumble
Was all that sounded in the night,
And from afar with thunderous might
Came ring of sword and horse hooves’ rumble.
Now horde of youthful horsemen speeds
In silence through the oaken spinneys
With shake of restless head their steeds
Impatient, exhale trembling whinnies.
And soon the horsemen rush through field,
They leave behind oaks’ fragile shelter,
Their horses to their switches yield
They’re proudly grinning as they skelter.
Their faces are with joy shot through,
Their eyes with furious fire are burning;
And soldier bard it’s only you
Who gloomy ape dark midnight’s churning
And are as pale as autumn too.
His head morosely sideways leaning,
He harbours sorrow in his breast,
Disturbed by search for sad thought’s meaning
He presses forwards on his quest.

“So what’s the matter, bard dejected?
Alone you’re sad before the strife;
No passion by your mien’s reflected,
Your reins hang loose, your sword lacks life!
Can it be true, O languor’s vassal,
You find your fields the more appeal
Than all our violent forays’ hassle
And battle-clash of sabres’ steel?
For ’neath our cutlass you were fashioned
a placid lad, pugnacious browed,
Who in the vanguard stood impassioned,
Wherever battle’s thunder sloughed.
Your victory scream once us united,
You used to sing our glory’s tale –
And now by untamed gloom you’re blighted,
Like warrior fleeing battle’s gale.”

But slowly, sad, our bard he lifted
His head and gaze till it did look
Into the distance as dusk drifted
And with a sigh his breast now shook.

“Deep sleep now falls on battle’s valley;
Alone in darkness race we free,
And I can see the end won’t dally!
The final battle summons me!
I’ll cancel cruel fate’s constriction,
I’ll draw my brothers towards the flame;
For soon upon us comes affliction,
My lonely horse will valley claim.

Oh you whose fate is to continue
To garner passion’s sweet rewards:
May passion’s tears from deep within you
Bless journey’s end with sheathed swords!
But sure is bard’s annihilation,
For silence will demand its toll;
Elvina, in her devastation
On hearing news won’t tell a soul…
And when upon you comes salvation,
Remember then this bard, your friend,
His passion and his tragic station,
The glory of his dreadful end!”