I love this man and I love his consort! Although he did not win the day, it seems only a matter of time that he does win again (for the fifth time). And that was the sentiment I felt as I completed this poem — win or lose, he is steadfast as a knight, as a consort, and as an inspiration to everyone who looks to him for inspiration.
I wanted to do a song this time, but the form I chose sounds best sung in Middle English. I may or may not consider translating this version of the poem into Middle English in the future. In the meantime, I really liked the iambic tetrameter of the original 13th century English piece, Worldes Blis:
Worldes blis ne last no throwe;
it went and wit awey anon.
The langer that ich hit iknowe,
the lass ich finde pris tharon;
for al it is imeind mid care,
mid serwen and mid evel fare,
and atte laste povre and bare
it lat man, wan it ginth agon.
Al the blis this heer and thare
Bilucth at ende weep and mon.
The rhyming pattern was simple: ABABCCCBCB.
————-<>————-
Duke Sven Orfhendur
fallen in Spring Crown Tourney, A.S. XLIX
Beyond the last unanswered blow
A knight is called to serve unpreened
For chivalry is deed, not show
A duty braved with pride unseen.
His presence on the field is set
To win or lose, his foe is met
And those who watch await the fete
When this day’s victory is gleaned.
And if this knight is paid his debt,
He’ll stand to make this Lady Queen.
But win or no, his duty’s clear
To take in faith this day’s campaign
The best must be the victor here
The next to rule only remain.
And if this prize has gone away
He knows the best has won the day
And so with mercy he will stay
To serve as well as he would reign.
Another time would be his day
And he will take the throne again.
— Bannthegn Beathog nic Dhonnchaidh
. . . is a 14th century bard who can often be seen traveling far from her home in the Highlands with her lord husband and muse. If a good tale crosses her path, she will sing a song about it, pull out its hair and spin it, or throw it in a pot and cook it up.