THE LAW OF LIFE
IN SOME GREAT FOREST LIES A CLEARING
LOST IN THE NORTHERN WILDERNESS
WHERE I SIT, AN OLD BLIND MAN
TIRED AND WORN OUT, WEAK AND HELPLESS
HERE I WAS LEFT BY MY TRIBE
TO SATISFY DEATHS BLOODTHIRSTYNESS
IT MUST BE DARK BY NOW – I FEEL IT
BY THE COOLNESS OF THE AIR
AND SILENTLY THE SNOW IS FALLING
ON MY FURS AND MY GREY HAIR
SOON THERE WILL BE NO MORE WOOD LEFT
TO FUEL THE FIRE WARMING ME
THE COLD WILL NUMB MY HANDS AND FEET
AND FROM THEN ON IT WILL SLOWLY
CREEP UP MY ARMS AND MY LEGS
UNTIL IT LEAVES A FROZEN BODY
FIRE IS MANKINDS BEST FRIEND
AND BEFORE I LOST MY SIGHT
I OFTEN SPENT THE NIGHT WATSHING
THE FLAMES DANCING – SHINING BRIGHT
LICKING THE WOOD, CLIMBING AND FALLING
SHEDDING A WARM, GOLDEN LIGHT
MELTING AWAY THE GLOOMY DARK
CHANGING COLOURS FROM RED TO WHITE
IT SEEMS AS IF ALL SOUNDS DIED AWAY
ONLY THE WIND STAYED HERE WITH ME
LIKE A QUIET VOICE FROM BEYOND
IT CALLS ME TO ETERNETY
WHILE WITH A COLD BREATH AND SHARP TEETH
IT BITES INTO THE MEAGER TREES
ALTHOUGH THEY STAND GROUPED UP TO FORESTS
THEY SHIVER IN THE COLD BREEZE
JUST AS THE WINTER FOLLOWS SUMMER
AS THE NIGHT SUCCEEDS THE DAY
JUST AS LEAVES CLING TO A TREE UNTIL
IN AUTUMN THEY FALL AND DECAY
I NOW, AFTER YEARS OF TRAVEL
HAVE REACHED THE END OF MY WAY
I REMEMBER A WINTER DAY
WHEN I WAS OUT HUNTING FOR DEERS
I JUST WAS LOOKING FOR A TRAIL
AS SUDDENLY A MOOSE APPEARS
AT FIRST I THAUGHT IT`S COMING AT ME
BUT THEN IT TURNED AND CHARGED BY
POUNDING ON THROUGH THE UNDERWOOD
LEAVING THE THICK SNOW FLYING HIGH
KEEPING UP A PACE SO ENOURMOUS
THAT IT ALMOST SEEMED TO FLY
AND AFTER IT A PACK OF WOLVES
HUNGRY, BLOODLUSTING AND VICIOUS
CHASING IT FURTHER ON AND ON
THEIRE SHARP WHITE FANGS SHINING MALICIOUS
FINALLY THE WOLVES DRAW UP
IN THE BATTLE SOME MEET WITH DEATH
BUT SOON LYING IN THE RED SNOW
THE GREAT MOOSE DRAWS ITS FINAL BREATH
AND THEN I REMEMBER A GIRL
WITH HER FRIENDS SHE PLAYED HIDE AND SEEK
SHE GROWS MORE BEAUTYFUL AND WOMANLY
WITH EVERY PASSING WEEK
THEN SHE MEETS A HANDSOME HUNTER
LIVES THROUGH JOY AND AGONY
AND AFTER CHILDREN AND OLD AGE
SHE`S LEFT ALONE TO DIE LIKE ME
I AM AWOKEN FROM MY DAYDREAMS
BY A FIERCE GROWL FROM BEHIND
SHOULD I TRY TO DEFEND MYSELF
A TIRED OLD MAN, WEAK AND BLIND?
AGAIN I REMEMBER THE MOOSE
AND AS I LET MYSELF DROP BACK
THE WOLVES BEGIN TO DRAW UP CLOSE
UNTIL THEY FINALLY – ATTACK!
LOST IN THE NORTHERN WILDERNESS
WHERE I SIT, AN OLD BLIND MAN
TIRED AND WORN OUT, WEAK AND HELPLESS
HERE I WAS LEFT BY MY TRIBE
TO SATISFY DEATHS BLOODTHIRSTYNESS
IT MUST BE DARK BY NOW – I FEEL IT
BY THE COOLNESS OF THE AIR
AND SILENTLY THE SNOW IS FALLING
ON MY FURS AND MY GREY HAIR
SOON THERE WILL BE NO MORE WOOD LEFT
TO FUEL THE FIRE WARMING ME
THE COLD WILL NUMB MY HANDS AND FEET
AND FROM THEN ON IT WILL SLOWLY
CREEP UP MY ARMS AND MY LEGS
UNTIL IT LEAVES A FROZEN BODY
FIRE IS MANKINDS BEST FRIEND
AND BEFORE I LOST MY SIGHT
I OFTEN SPENT THE NIGHT WATSHING
THE FLAMES DANCING – SHINING BRIGHT
LICKING THE WOOD, CLIMBING AND FALLING
SHEDDING A WARM, GOLDEN LIGHT
MELTING AWAY THE GLOOMY DARK
CHANGING COLOURS FROM RED TO WHITE
IT SEEMS AS IF ALL SOUNDS DIED AWAY
ONLY THE WIND STAYED HERE WITH ME
LIKE A QUIET VOICE FROM BEYOND
IT CALLS ME TO ETERNETY
WHILE WITH A COLD BREATH AND SHARP TEETH
IT BITES INTO THE MEAGER TREES
ALTHOUGH THEY STAND GROUPED UP TO FORESTS
THEY SHIVER IN THE COLD BREEZE
JUST AS THE WINTER FOLLOWS SUMMER
AS THE NIGHT SUCCEEDS THE DAY
JUST AS LEAVES CLING TO A TREE UNTIL
IN AUTUMN THEY FALL AND DECAY
I NOW, AFTER YEARS OF TRAVEL
HAVE REACHED THE END OF MY WAY
I REMEMBER A WINTER DAY
WHEN I WAS OUT HUNTING FOR DEERS
I JUST WAS LOOKING FOR A TRAIL
AS SUDDENLY A MOOSE APPEARS
AT FIRST I THAUGHT IT`S COMING AT ME
BUT THEN IT TURNED AND CHARGED BY
POUNDING ON THROUGH THE UNDERWOOD
LEAVING THE THICK SNOW FLYING HIGH
KEEPING UP A PACE SO ENOURMOUS
THAT IT ALMOST SEEMED TO FLY
AND AFTER IT A PACK OF WOLVES
HUNGRY, BLOODLUSTING AND VICIOUS
CHASING IT FURTHER ON AND ON
THEIRE SHARP WHITE FANGS SHINING MALICIOUS
FINALLY THE WOLVES DRAW UP
IN THE BATTLE SOME MEET WITH DEATH
BUT SOON LYING IN THE RED SNOW
THE GREAT MOOSE DRAWS ITS FINAL BREATH
AND THEN I REMEMBER A GIRL
WITH HER FRIENDS SHE PLAYED HIDE AND SEEK
SHE GROWS MORE BEAUTYFUL AND WOMANLY
WITH EVERY PASSING WEEK
THEN SHE MEETS A HANDSOME HUNTER
LIVES THROUGH JOY AND AGONY
AND AFTER CHILDREN AND OLD AGE
SHE`S LEFT ALONE TO DIE LIKE ME
I AM AWOKEN FROM MY DAYDREAMS
BY A FIERCE GROWL FROM BEHIND
SHOULD I TRY TO DEFEND MYSELF
A TIRED OLD MAN, WEAK AND BLIND?
AGAIN I REMEMBER THE MOOSE
AND AS I LET MYSELF DROP BACK
THE WOLVES BEGIN TO DRAW UP CLOSE
UNTIL THEY FINALLY – ATTACK!
Note
"O WHAT A THING IS AGE! DEATH WITHOUT DEATH’S QUIET."WALTER SAVAGE LANDOR (1775-1864)