In this topic I'm going to post some of my favorites, and I'm going to give you the opportunity to post your favorites, or make your own. I'll be reading them, at least.
This one if from a finnish poet Eino Leino. It's titled "Tumma", which translates to "Dark" (as an adjective). It's quite long and I'm going to try to translate it into english so that it makes sense to you.
And yes, there is no rhyme in the original version either.
It's basically a story that tells of a boy who is scared of everything, can't do anything without being terrified, is worried that he won't make it in life, and in the end wishes to kill himself.
Read to see how it ends, it's a great poem.
Dark
Dark was the mother's child
Scared at birth,
Saw terrors everywhere,
Perceived all the evil spirits,
Never any good ones.
The mother put him herding -
Returned from the forest, the boy,
Stood in a strange mood,
Spoke with a weak voice.
"Oh mother, never again,
make me herd the cattle!
The demon stood at the swamp,
Goblins laughed in the woods,
Monsters came after me,
Elves rose from the ground."
The boy could not herd cattle -
They put him fishing.
Returned from the sea, the boy,
Stepped inside with pale white skin,
Spoke with a shaking voice,
"Terrifying were the people in the woods,
At sea even more so!
I saw the great serpents rising,
I saw the ocean split,
A drowned man sat on the skerry,
An emptiness lay under me."
The boy could not fish -
They put him firemaking
Returned from the fire, the boy,
Came home running wild,
Screamed with scared eyes.
"Horrifying were the people of the sea,
In the fires even more so!
The snakes spat cinders,
The lizards spoke red flames,
The witch cooked in the fires,
The devil mixed his soup!"
Now the family wanted the boy dead -
"What use is an empty man!?"
The mother stopped them,
Took the boy to the town races.
Returned from the town, the boy,
Didn't dare to step in the house,
Walked quietly on the roads,
Hid in the far fields;
The mother finally found him,
standing on the hill.
The boy hugged his mother,
"Oh mother, my bearer!
It's best for me to disappear,
Best for me to leave these lands,
To go to the troves of death,
To hide in the cold fields.
I see terrors in my home,
Even more so in the town,
On the porch a stranger stood,
On the stairs a stranger's son.
Accidents loom in the holes,
On the doorsteps, a ghost."
The mother felt her dark one,
Felt him doomed from the start,
Scared at birth.
Cried, cried, didn't hold back,
Spoke with a voice of sorrow:
"So you will, poor boy,
Go to the troves of death,
To the shadowy bushes.
Behind the house,
Where your granfather lies.
On the peaceful fields,
Where the trees stand tall,
The gloomy yews whisper,
Of the present, of the past,
In the sorrows of the eternal night."
The grandfather spoke from the grave:
"Why do you cry, pearl of the family?"
"That I cry, my elder
The forest didn't want me."
"Soothe the forest with song,
As did your fathers before you."
"That I cry, my elder
I am no man for the sea."
"Calm the sea with gifts,
As did your fathers before you."
"That I cry my elder
Fire isn't familiar to me"
"Put the fire in shackles,
As did your fathers before you."
Sadness crept in the air:
"Oh my elder, take me with you,
To the halls of the dead,
I am my mother's dark child,
Scared at birth,
I see terrors everywhere,
Foremost in the life of men."
Arose the voice from below the grass
A word wandered from the dark halls:
"Scared were your fathers before you,
But they lived their time.
Barren is the dawn of life,
The evening of death even more so.
The homes are small in the kingdom of the dead,
The hallways are narrow under the ground,
The moon doesn't shine, the sun doesn't warm,
Alone you sit, alone you stand.
A maggot eats away at the walls,
You eat away at yourself,
In eternal misery,
In sadness, in hardship."
Returned from the graves, the boy,
Came as a silent man,
Sat in the familiar room.
Kept the fire in the fireplace,
Worked around the house.
With a smile, sang sometimes,
Of the elves in the woods,
Of the spirits at the sea.
Took the nets, set the traps.
So lived his whole life.
Not in happiness, not in sorrow,
Stacking days on top of each other,
The coming days, the past days,
The good days, the hard days,
On the top, the good days.
Dark was the mother's child
Scared at birth,
Saw terrors everywhere,
Perceived all the evil spirits,
Never any good ones.
The mother put him herding -
Returned from the forest, the boy,
Stood in a strange mood,
Spoke with a weak voice.
"Oh mother, never again,
make me herd the cattle!
The demon stood at the swamp,
Goblins laughed in the woods,
Monsters came after me,
Elves rose from the ground."
The boy could not herd cattle -
They put him fishing.
Returned from the sea, the boy,
Stepped inside with pale white skin,
Spoke with a shaking voice,
"Terrifying were the people in the woods,
At sea even more so!
I saw the great serpents rising,
I saw the ocean split,
A drowned man sat on the skerry,
An emptiness lay under me."
The boy could not fish -
They put him firemaking
Returned from the fire, the boy,
Came home running wild,
Screamed with scared eyes.
"Horrifying were the people of the sea,
In the fires even more so!
The snakes spat cinders,
The lizards spoke red flames,
The witch cooked in the fires,
The devil mixed his soup!"
Now the family wanted the boy dead -
"What use is an empty man!?"
The mother stopped them,
Took the boy to the town races.
Returned from the town, the boy,
Didn't dare to step in the house,
Walked quietly on the roads,
Hid in the far fields;
The mother finally found him,
standing on the hill.
The boy hugged his mother,
"Oh mother, my bearer!
It's best for me to disappear,
Best for me to leave these lands,
To go to the troves of death,
To hide in the cold fields.
I see terrors in my home,
Even more so in the town,
On the porch a stranger stood,
On the stairs a stranger's son.
Accidents loom in the holes,
On the doorsteps, a ghost."
The mother felt her dark one,
Felt him doomed from the start,
Scared at birth.
Cried, cried, didn't hold back,
Spoke with a voice of sorrow:
"So you will, poor boy,
Go to the troves of death,
To the shadowy bushes.
Behind the house,
Where your granfather lies.
On the peaceful fields,
Where the trees stand tall,
The gloomy yews whisper,
Of the present, of the past,
In the sorrows of the eternal night."
The grandfather spoke from the grave:
"Why do you cry, pearl of the family?"
"That I cry, my elder
The forest didn't want me."
"Soothe the forest with song,
As did your fathers before you."
"That I cry, my elder
I am no man for the sea."
"Calm the sea with gifts,
As did your fathers before you."
"That I cry my elder
Fire isn't familiar to me"
"Put the fire in shackles,
As did your fathers before you."
Sadness crept in the air:
"Oh my elder, take me with you,
To the halls of the dead,
I am my mother's dark child,
Scared at birth,
I see terrors everywhere,
Foremost in the life of men."
Arose the voice from below the grass
A word wandered from the dark halls:
"Scared were your fathers before you,
But they lived their time.
Barren is the dawn of life,
The evening of death even more so.
The homes are small in the kingdom of the dead,
The hallways are narrow under the ground,
The moon doesn't shine, the sun doesn't warm,
Alone you sit, alone you stand.
A maggot eats away at the walls,
You eat away at yourself,
In eternal misery,
In sadness, in hardship."
Returned from the graves, the boy,
Came as a silent man,
Sat in the familiar room.
Kept the fire in the fireplace,
Worked around the house.
With a smile, sang sometimes,
Of the elves in the woods,
Of the spirits at the sea.
Took the nets, set the traps.
So lived his whole life.
Not in happiness, not in sorrow,
Stacking days on top of each other,
The coming days, the past days,
The good days, the hard days,
On the top, the good days.
darkspyro
net