Two Violins
(a
medieval-folk-rock tribute)
Widely spread was the fame of esteemed royal bard,
The one who could sing for the King.
Anything he could play, be it
drums or a harp;
He mastered his fine violin.
Mighty proud he was, as he challenged one day
All men with a musical skill.
“Take my fine violin” – this was what he proclaimed,
“If you name a song I can’t sing”.
So the talented folk
started coming to him
From heartlands and seashores alike.
Many ballads they knew, but he still was supreme,
As he knew all names that they tried.
Then a young man arrived and confronted the bard;
He had just an old violin.
“Can you reckon the song of a traveler’s heart
And three wondrous ladies of dream?”
“I remember the ballads of travelling knights
And beautiful ladies they praise.
Come and play me a pattern, and I will say ‘fine’
As soon as your lucky time ends.”
So the bow has
touched one of worn-out strings;
Slow-tempoed, sad music was
heard,
And the crowd fell silent, so solemn it seemed,
Such vibrant emotions it brought.
In the lands far
and distant,
In the woods dark
and misty,
One could find a
cottage, a glade and a lake.
The lake was
delightful;
The cottage was
tidy;
Three beautiful
sisters were calling it home.
One could see the
eldest,
The lady of
fairness,
With hazelnut hair
and dark shining eyes.
Another, the young
one,
The lady of wonder,
Red-braided,
white-skinned, and with ocean-green eyes.
And also the youngest,
The lady of
brightness,
With sand-coloured hair as long as her waist.
A traveler
stranding
Once came by their
chambers;
In deep admiration,
he spoke to the girls.
Said he to the
eldest:
“O lady of
fairness,
I’m master of words
but no master of tunes.
This anthem’s my
writing;
Add notes good and
mighty,
And we will create
a magnificent song.”
“No, no”, said the
eldest,
The lady of
fairness,
“For I am no master
of melodies too.”
Said he to the
young one:
“O lady of wonder,
I’m master of words
but no master of oils.
This sketch is my
making;
Come help me to
paint it,
And we will create
some magnificent art.”
“No, no”, said the
young one,
The lady of wonder,
“For I am no master
of colouring too.”
Said he to the
youngest:
“O lady of
brightness,
I’m master of words
but no master of charms.
This chant is my
dreaming;
Come help me to
live it,
And we will create
a magnificent spell.”
“No, no”, said the
youngest,
The lady of
brightness,
“For I am no master
of magic as well.”
… The lake was
delightful;
The cottage was
tidy;
No traveler
stranding was calling it home.
The musician has finished and bowed his head;
Yet no one has uttered a thing.
Then the bard has approached the young man and said:
“Take this, it’s my fine violin.
Now tell me, how comes that I don’t know the ballad?”
“It’s simple”, the young man has said.
“Unlike all the others who have here gathered,
I sang one I’ve written myself.”
06.08.19