Fairy Tale

Once, in times forgotten,

In a fairy place,

Through the steppe, a rider

Made his way apace.

While he sped to battle,

Nearing from the dim

Distance, a dark forest

Rose ahead of him.

Something kept repeating,

Seemed his heart to graze:

Tighten up the saddle,

Fear the watering-place.

But he did not listen.

Heeding but his will,

At full speed he bounded

Up the wooded  hill;

Rode into a valley,

Turning from the mound,

Galloped through a meadow,

Skirted higher ground;

Reached a gloomy hollow,

Found a trail to trace

Down the woodland pathway

To the watering-place.

Deaf to voice of warning,

And without remorse,

Down the slope, the rider

Led his thirsty horse.

      ____

Where the stream grew shallow,

Winding through the glen,

Eerie flames lit up the

Entrance to a den.

Through thick clouds of crimson

Smoke above the spring,

An uncanny calling

Made the forest ring.

And the rider started,

And with peering eye

Urged his horse in answer

To the haunting cry.

Then he saw the dragon,

And he gripped his lance;

And his horse stood breathless

Fearing to advance.

Thrice around a maiden

Was the serpent wound;

Fire-breathing nostrils

Cast a glare around.

And the dragon's body

Moved his scaly neck,

At her shoulder snaking

Whiplike forth and back.

By that country's custom

Was a young and fair

Captive brought as ransom

To the dragon's lair.

This then was the tribute

That the people owed

To the worm-protection

For a poor abode.

Now the dragon hugged his

Victim in alarm,

And the coils grew tighter

Round her throat and arm.

Skyward looked the horseman

With imploring glance,

And for the impending

Fight he couched his lance.

      ____

Tightly closing eyelids.

Heights and cloudy spheres.

Rivers. Waters. Boulders.

Centuries and years.

Helmetless, the wounded

Lies, his life at stake.

With his hooves the charger

Tramples down the snake.

On the sand, together-

Dragon, steed, and lance;

In a swoon the rider,

The maiden-in a trance.

Blue the sky; soft breezes

Tender noon caress.

Who is she? A lady?

Peasant girl? Princess?

Now in joyous wonder

Cannot cease to weep;

Now again abandoned

To unending sleep.

Now, his strength returning,

Opens up his eyes;

Now anew the wounded

Limp and listless lies.

But their hearts are beating.

Waves surge up, die down;

Carry them, and waken,

And in slumber drown.

Tightly closing eyelids.

Heights and cloudy spheres.

Rivers. Waters. Boulders.

Centuries and years.