Читать книгу Nettlewooz Vol. 1 - Stefan Seitz - Страница 5

This is what it said on the final pages of a little yellowed book:

In days gone by, so long ago,

The forest lay there deep and dark.

What happened then we do not know.

A secret that has left its mark.

A Crescent Moon, so slim and bright,

Cast its glow on the dark night.

The valley, too, and all the hills

Bathed in silver. And the rills

Gleamed and twinkled, flashed and shone.

The forest dark, it slumbered on.

But what was this? So suddenly

Tree and flower, land and sea

Fell silent. From the forest floor

Arose a mist and then before

They knew it, all the grass turned pale.

The mist, it then became a veil.

Those years ago, on that dark night

In the clear glow of the starlight

A white dress from the mist arose

And then some hair, and then a nose:

A fairy bright, who must have been

More beautiful than any seen.

Through tears, the wispy fairy fine

Saw the light of the moon shine.

She loved this moon, though it was fain

To give her always naught but pain

Of every sort. How hot it burned,

And still her face she to it turned.

Full moons, they caused her so much pain –

She only danced when it was plain

That nought would be there that night present

Except the slender little crescent.

And so she dancéd in its light

And never thought of taking flight.

But in the darkness, hiding there,

A stranger watched her. O beware!

The south wind cried. Alas, alack!

The fairy never lookéd back

To see the man with dev’lish frown.

Sheer evil with an icy crown.

The dawn broke then, and the dark night

Turned into a morn so bright.

The veil of mist vanished anew

And landed on the grass as dew.

Soft and distant came the sound

Of sobbing, deep and so profound.

The next night fell – but o, so strange!

New Moon was due – but what a change!

The crescent’s rays felt very cold;

They shone into the forest old.

The fairy dancéd, full of glee,

“The rays – they are not hurting me!”

The south wind cried: “Look out! Now run!”

The fairy turned – but it was done

Too late. A clap of thunder filled the land.

An evil laugh. An icy hand

Took her away. She knew not where.

And there was no more fairy fair.

But then came one almighty crash.

The moon fell down and it did smash

The earth in two. The thunder roared;

The lightning flashed. With one accord

The tall trees rocked and swayed and fell.

The forest croaked its own death knell.

And hail and snow as ne’er before

Smote the land so very poor.

The crown it fell, and darkness, too.

An Ice Age dawned. And then anew,

From years of frozen sadness felt,

The ice and snow began to melt.

The years they passéd by the horde

Until the land could be restored.

But ne’er again was there a sight

Of fairy fair by pale moonlight.

And not even the wind doth know

What might be buried far below.