Post by Whyte Phoenix on May 24, 2006 2:28:14 GMT -5
{It's some freaking ancient ballad. Holy cow. I had to make it a story version of it, answering why 'Gold-Haired' poisioned him. Here's 12:30 am Whyte Phoenix writing for you. x__x}
Name I have none, but all I can state is that I have two wings for flight and a plumage of brown. I sing my sweet songs to all, even the hawks who may end my singsong life, even to the hounds who hunt my kin and neighbor, I sing. I am the bright-brown sparrow who dwells in a forest of quiet and peace. But, every day and then, the peace that had seemed everlasting before would be broken by lovers of two sorts.
One pair of them, I believed, was a lovely pair. It was handsome Lord Randall and handsome miss Gold-Haired (as I did not know her name). They frolicked in the grass like young deer, preened each other's hair like cooing doves, and tended one another like fussy mother geese. When they finished with their lovely deeds, I would follow miss Gold-Haired home, or handsome Lord Randall the other. And with these same brown eyes, I saw two different love's homes.
The handsome Lord's was a fine, fine mansion built with secure rock and wood. There was a fenced meadow next to it with many a fat cattle and many a fit horse. A field of ripening crops surrounded this, with handfuls of servants in jewel-bright uniforms. There was even an apple tree where songbirds of all sorts could come and rest in the shade, breathing in this place's fragrance.
The Gold-Haired miss's place, to my misfortune (and Lord Randall's), was a fallen stone hut fit for an ogre. Weeds and wild foods were always strewn about the dry ground of mostly infertile earth. And there was but a chest of fine silks and dresses in this grim, grim hut of her's. I had seen it brought to miss Gold-Haired by a grubby, chubby man. He was a known thief and a greedy one too, as I heard from a goat in a field, once. This, sadly, was the lover of the other sort. They neither danced with dignity, ate with grace, or even spoke with words gentle enough for a sparrow's ear, or any other's.
It was a pleasant evening in the forest when one of these love's ended. I was suckling from an overripe fruit when Gold-Haired came by the river with a broth of eels, a crimson berry, and the fat thief. They were chuckling like old foxes about what wealth and riches would come to them soon, and I did not know what they spoke of, until the thief had hidden himself away, and the handsome Lord Randall appear by the river. Gold-Haired, with now, as I saw, forced grace, had squeezed the juice of the berry over the eel's broth. I gave the loudest chirp, but handsome Lord Randall had already begun to eat his fill of the vixen's eel and eel's broth.
As blind as the foolish bat, handsome Lord Randall soon bade Gold-Haired goodbye, and wandered back home on his roan-red steed. No sooner did he arrive home, did his knees give a little away, and his skin grow pale. He gave a heave and pulled himself through the doorway, and there his mother guided him in. As I watched from the window, handsome Lord Randall was questioned, he replied, and then he finally collapsed on his bed. His mother began to weep. I then knew of handsome Lord Randall's death, his gold that would be left to his mother, and the rope that would soon hang, that vixen Gold-Haired.
Name I have none, but all I can state is that I have two wings for flight and a plumage of brown. I sing my sweet songs to all, even the hawks who may end my singsong life, even to the hounds who hunt my kin and neighbor, I sing. I am the bright-brown sparrow who dwells in a forest of quiet and peace. But, every day and then, the peace that had seemed everlasting before would be broken by lovers of two sorts.
One pair of them, I believed, was a lovely pair. It was handsome Lord Randall and handsome miss Gold-Haired (as I did not know her name). They frolicked in the grass like young deer, preened each other's hair like cooing doves, and tended one another like fussy mother geese. When they finished with their lovely deeds, I would follow miss Gold-Haired home, or handsome Lord Randall the other. And with these same brown eyes, I saw two different love's homes.
The handsome Lord's was a fine, fine mansion built with secure rock and wood. There was a fenced meadow next to it with many a fat cattle and many a fit horse. A field of ripening crops surrounded this, with handfuls of servants in jewel-bright uniforms. There was even an apple tree where songbirds of all sorts could come and rest in the shade, breathing in this place's fragrance.
The Gold-Haired miss's place, to my misfortune (and Lord Randall's), was a fallen stone hut fit for an ogre. Weeds and wild foods were always strewn about the dry ground of mostly infertile earth. And there was but a chest of fine silks and dresses in this grim, grim hut of her's. I had seen it brought to miss Gold-Haired by a grubby, chubby man. He was a known thief and a greedy one too, as I heard from a goat in a field, once. This, sadly, was the lover of the other sort. They neither danced with dignity, ate with grace, or even spoke with words gentle enough for a sparrow's ear, or any other's.
It was a pleasant evening in the forest when one of these love's ended. I was suckling from an overripe fruit when Gold-Haired came by the river with a broth of eels, a crimson berry, and the fat thief. They were chuckling like old foxes about what wealth and riches would come to them soon, and I did not know what they spoke of, until the thief had hidden himself away, and the handsome Lord Randall appear by the river. Gold-Haired, with now, as I saw, forced grace, had squeezed the juice of the berry over the eel's broth. I gave the loudest chirp, but handsome Lord Randall had already begun to eat his fill of the vixen's eel and eel's broth.
As blind as the foolish bat, handsome Lord Randall soon bade Gold-Haired goodbye, and wandered back home on his roan-red steed. No sooner did he arrive home, did his knees give a little away, and his skin grow pale. He gave a heave and pulled himself through the doorway, and there his mother guided him in. As I watched from the window, handsome Lord Randall was questioned, he replied, and then he finally collapsed on his bed. His mother began to weep. I then knew of handsome Lord Randall's death, his gold that would be left to his mother, and the rope that would soon hang, that vixen Gold-Haired.