Roland
and Charlemagne
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.
To hear Alf Cranner sing the track from his LP 'Fiine Antikviteter', go to here
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