A poem I might draw

[minoanmiss]

I've been thinking about poetry a lot recently. I
have a little book of food related poems which I've been reading on the train,
althought at the moment I've lent it to my boss.

I have a special fondness for Kipling (insert jokes 2, 14, and 27) so I was
remembering bits of his works and remembered this spooky, splendid poem. The
commentary I read mentioned brothers avenging their sister, but there's no actual
indication in the text of the gender of the avenging siblings.

I'm going to put this aside till after the holidays, because time, but I was just
envisioning two determined ladies leading horses with one hand each and escorting a
bound dude with the other hand each, while all three think a thought-bubble
containing the guy's murder of a third similar-looking woman, her hands clasped
before her in pleading and his hand pulling her hair back to bare her throat to his
dagger.

(I only plan to include the horses' noses, to make life easier on myself)

What do you think?


Heriot's Ford by Rudyard Kipling

Enlarged from "The Light that Failed"

"What's that that hirples at my side?"
The foe that you must fight, my lord.
"That rides as fast as I can ride?"
The shadow of your might, my lord.

"Then wheel my horse against the foe!"
He's down and overpast, my lord.
You war against the sunset-glow,
The judgment follows fast, my lord!

"Oh, who will stay the sun's descent?"
King Joshua he is dead, my lord.
"I need an hour to repent!"
'Tis what our sister said, my lord.

"Oh, do not slay me in my sins!"
You're safe awhile with us, my lord.
"Nay, kill me ere my fear begins!"
We would not serve you thus, my lord.

"Where is the doom that I must face? "
Three little leagues away, my lord.
"Then mend the horses' laggard pace!"
We need them for next day, my lord.

"Next day--next day! Unloose my cords!"
Our sister needed none, my lord.
You had no mind to face our swords,
And--where can cowards run, my lord?

"You would not kill the soul alive?"
'Twas thus our sister cried, my lord.
"I dare not die with none to shrive."
But so our sister died, my lord.

"Then wipe the sweat from brow and cheek."
It runnels forth afresh, my lord.
"Uphold me--for the flesh is weak."
You've finished with the Flesh, my lord!

Comments

[darkmarcy]

Ooh, sounds cool! It's good to write down ideas/inspirations so you can come back to them later.

(I should learn to do that properly, if I make notes it's on random pieces of paper and if I miraculously manage to find them, they're like: 'Idea: dog illustration'. That's not very helpful months after having the original idea xD )

[acelightning]

Oh, what a grim poem!

Canonically, the "lord" is tied to a horse by his captors, only one of whom speaks, as they take him to be executed. But you're right, it doesn't specify what gender those captors are - and those Border ladies could be fierce!

If you're going to kipple, though, I think "The Road Through The Wood" (you know how much I like that one!) might also be a good poem to illustrate.

[contrarywise]

That's quite an image--I can see why it would inspire you. The poem reminds me of "The Death of Young Andrew" (Child Ballad 48), which is a similar revenge ballad, although the ones to exact revenge are distinctly brothers in that song. I first heard it years ago on an album that an acquaintance of mine, now going by the name Olvardil Prydwyn, recorded. Martin Carthy's version is probably the most well-known.