Mittwoch, 8. April 2015

Fragmente: Steel (In My Hand), oder: The Wise Man's Lament

I've walked all the mountains and plains of this world
Crossed every ocean with proud sails unfurled
Have seen many faces, heard many a voice
And still, here I stand now with hardly a choice

I've learned to draw music from dead wood and string
My fingers were shattered so I learned how to sing
My voice lost its timbre so I started to write
A book in the morning and poems by night

I've heard all the sages and learned how to speak
Be proud and seductive or humble and meek
And yet I am forced to rely in the end
On a good twenty ounces of steel in my hand

I've long been a farmer, a thief once or twice
Have toiled in the coal mines for a small bowl of rice
Been a scribe and a merchant, a singer, a cook
A fool and a watchman, a noble, a crook

Saw innocents slaugtered when war came to town
Have healed many wounded, could not save my own
Saw plague and desaster, went too far for a cure
Could never return to the ways of the pure

Had many a scar when my journey was done
Got bitten by frost and then burnt by the sun
Plucked thorns from my feet and wiped tears from my eyes
So tell me, has none of this pain made me wise?

They promised me peace, and prosperity too
But their faces are hollow, their words don't ring true
I know this will cost me, but there's no other way
If they come seeking trouble, at least let them pay

A shimmer of hope and a pang of regret
Will tomorrow be brighter, or will I be dead?
But whether triumphant, or lost to the night
My foe is approaching, and I know I must fight

So bring me my shield and saddle my horse,
Whatever they do, be a thousand times worse
For even a wise man must ride, in the end,
With fire and lightning
And steel in his hand