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"Ermeline: A Ballad" represents a captivating tapestry of folklore and emotion, masterfully intertwining lyrical beauty and narrative depth. The work unfolds within the realm of romantic adventures and tragic destinies, artfully employing the balladic form, marked by its rhythmic structures and refrains that echo the cyclical nature of love and loss. Set against the backdrop of pastoral landscapes, the ballad encapsulates universal themes while drawing upon local traditions, emblematic of its time and literary context that seeks to honor oral storytelling traditions while inviting readers into an intimate, reflective space. The authors of this anthology, variously celebrated figures in their own right, have been influenced by rich cultural heritages and historical narratives. Their collaborative effort reflects a tapestry of perspectives, often rooted in personal experiences and regional lore, making "Ermeline" an essential addition to the canon of ballad literature. By synthesizing their unique voices, they breathe life into the character of Ermeline, evoking empathy and prompting reflections on human emotions and societal norms. For readers who appreciate the intricate intersections of narrative and verse, "Ermeline: A Ballad" is a compelling exploration of human narratives that transcend time. It invites you to immerse yourself in a world where every stanza resonates with passion, poignancy, and the haunting echoes of love's endurance, making it a must-read for anyone enamored with the literary art of storytelling.
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Veröffentlichungsjahr: 2022
With lance upraised so haughtily Sir Thunye rides from Alsey town; On land and main he was, I ween, A daring knight of high renown.
Sir Thunye rides in good green wood, He fain will chase the nimble hare; And there he meeteth the Dwarf’s daughter, All with her band of maidens fair.
Sir Thunye rides in good green wood, To chase the nimble hart and hind; And there he meets the Dwarf’s daughter, Beneath the linden bough reclin’d.
She rested ’neath the linden’s shade, The gold harp in her hand was seen: “O yonder I spy Sir Thunye ride, I’ll bring him to my feet, I ween.
“Now sit ye down, my maids so small, And sit you down my little foot boy; For I the Runic note will play, Till field and meadow bloom with joy.”
Then struck she amain the Runic stroke, The harp began so sweet to ring, The wild bird on the twig that sat Forgot its merry song to sing.
The wild bird on the bough that sat Forgot its merry song to sing; The wild hart running in the shaw Forgot forthwith to leap and spring.
Then bloomed the mead, the bough burst forth, As wildly rang that Runic strain; Sir Thunye fiercely spurred his steed, But, ah! to ’scape he strove in vain.
It was the knight Sir Thunye then From his good courser bounded he; He went up to the Dwarf’s daughter, And took his seat beside her knee.
“Hail to thee, Daughter of the Dwarf! Do thou become my wedded wife, And I’ll respect and honor thee, All, all the days I gain in life.
“Here sitt’st thou, Daughter of the Dwarf, A rose amongst the lilies all; No man can see thee in this world But thee his own he fain would call.”
“Now list to me, Sir Thunye the knight, Give up, I beg, this amorous play; I have already a bridegroom bold, The King whom all the dwarfs obey.
“My father sits within the hill, He marshals there his elfin power; Next Monday morn my bridegroom bold Shall bear me to his elfin bower.