| Subject: Twa Corbies |
Author:
wranx
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Date Posted: 05:35:34 06/21/02 Fri
There are old English folksongs that portray two and sometimes three blackbirds debating the pros and cons of devouring a dead knight, I can't understand the archaic English, but here is my take on it. (These birds do NOT live in Wandas' realm).
Twa Corbies
Come, brother crow, tis time to feast
Upon this dead and armoured beast
Upon that sad tormented Knight
I cannot sup, no, not one bite
We’re fortune blessed, can you not see?
He chose to die beneath our tree
Mortal hurt and full of pride
He chose to rest, but, rather died
And rest he will, forevermore
And feast we will, and feast some more
A lady has he, and sad she waits
She knows not yet, her poor loves’ fate
Sad, no doubt, but wait she will
She’ll wait until we get our fill
Our fill, dear sir, is easy got
Cast thy eyes upon that lot
That lot, good sir, does fairly reek
I’ll cast my tongue upon fresh meat
Stay your tongue sir, stay your beak
Some men approach, tis him they seek
And seek they will and will not find
Til’ this lads’ skin is nought but rind
And rind’s too tough for his Lordships’ taste
Hence his Excellency’s wish for haste?
You stay your tongue, it’s got too sharp
This lad is dead, he plays his harp
He plays his harp, his lady waits
Never again to see his face
His face, oh yes, so young and fine!
So first, upon his eyes, I’ll dine
~wranx
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