I
“Six of my jarls
at home shall bide and guard the gold so fair, –
Six more shall hie
to heathen lands and test their cold steel there.
- Off they then
rode from Frankish lands on horses freshly saddled,
blew the horn
called Oliphant, at Roncevaux did battle.
They hoisted up
their silken sail until it topped the mast,
Then off they
sailed to heathen lands till fourteen days had passed.
Oars and anchors
caught at last upon the silver sand:
Roland, loyal
kinsman of the king, was first to set foot on land.
II
The blue-faced
Moorish army did fill both mountain and dale:
“Warriors from
Christian lands are they, with helmets like vermeil!”
The king of all
the Blackamoors, who had seemingly lived long:
“The Christians
who our taxes seized would seem a fearful throng.
Can we not get our
taxes back from these who fear no fray,
we shall advance
to Roncevaux and fight for two or three days!”
III
Forward the
Moorish hordes all surged, they blotted out the sun;
then did Roland’s
comrades fear, and begged him sound his horn.
Roland replied to
them with wrath, his mouth was flecked with foam:
“I shall hew such
mighty blows, they’ll be known till doomsday comes!”
They battled out
at Roncevaux, they fought for two or three days;
the heathens fell
before Roland’s sword that scythe-like all did slay.
They battled out
at Roncevaux, and all were full of wrath.
the heathens fell
before Roland’s sword like snow drifts o’er the heath.
IV
Forward the
Moorish hordes all surged, they blotted out the sun;
then did Roland’s
comrades fear, and begged him sound his horn.
Roland angrily
replied, mouth dripping with blood and foam:
“I shall hew such
mighty blows, they’ll be known till doomsday comes!”
They battled out
at Roncevaux, blood in rivers did flow;
the horses could
not tread the ground, on corpses they must go.
They battled out
at Roncevaux, their weary bodies dulled,
the sun no longer
could shine clear for the haze of human blood.
V
Forward the
Moorish hordes all surged, they blotted out the sun, –
and all of
Roland’s comrades feared, and begged him sound his horn
He placed the horn
to bloodied lips and blew with all his might;
o’er mountain and
heath the sound was borne, crags and fields it did blight.
He placed the horn
to bloodied lips, in wrath he let it bray:
then crofts and
farms began to shake that lay nine days’ journey away.
Roland, loyal
kinsman to the king, he blew the golden horn:
it split the walls
and marble stone and Charlemagne’s tower was shorn.
Forward the horn’s
clear call did surge, in sword sheaths it did sound –
Roland blew till
his eyes stood out, for they threatened to bring him down.
Charlemagne, the
mighty king, then gave a cry forlorn:
“What can it be
that ails my man? For now I hear his horn!”
VI
More haste made
Charlemagne the king than he’d e’er done before:
warrior Roland he
lay dead, clutched in his hand his sword.
“In twos now all
of you go out, let all your peers partake,
see if they from
Roland’s hand the Bane of Dwarfs can take!”
Back again the men
soon came, but not as they had planned:
“We all have
failed the Bane of Dwarfs to wrest from Roland’s hand.”
Forward then
stepped king Charlemagne, by sorrow he was gripped:
Roland let the
sword slip free, as ’twere a royal gift.
Forward then
stepped king Charlemagne, with longing he was racked:
Roland let the
sword slip free, as if ’twere handed back.
VII
Homeward then
journeyed Charlemagne. From grief all bowed their heads –
the ship was laden
with silver and gold, the heathens all were dead.
“Why sit you here
so tired and wan? drunken yet listless all?
Have you been
lying sick abed, or did brave young warriors fall?
“No need to
wonder, my fair queen, if we have grounds to grieve:
Roland, loyal
kinsman, is no more, brave men this life did leave.”
- Off they then
rode from Frankish lands on horses freshly saddled,
blew the horn
called Oliphant, at Roncevaux did battle.
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