Back in the dusty times of old
before they wrote much down
strange stories moved from mouth to mouth
well hidden from the crown
The mighty rulers lived in forts
and castles of renown
they did not ever tolerate
the common folks' put downs
So storytellers twisted facts
dressed up like fairy tales
but all the people of tow birth
knew what the truth entailed
The Piper story known as Pied
first showed up in folklore
in a small town called Hamelin
and spread from door to door
No one is sure just who he was
and how he charmed his way
to rid the town of many rats
demanding a fair pay
When they reneged an would not give
him what was his fair due
he disappeared with all the kids
and left without a clue
Although this fragment from the past
seems like a fantasy
the timeless question still remains:
what is reality?
I do not live in Hamelin
and am not plagued by rats
yet I've been charmed by tunes so rare
dressed in Pied Piper's hats
Resistance flew right out the door
when he commenced to play
until he turned the day to night
and night was bright as day
Time came the melody turned cold
I tried to run away
and then in anger and in rage
a dirge he chose to play
I screamed and cried and tore my clothes
his tune pierced through and through
and then I knew the tale is true
the Piper takes his due
Back in the dusty times of old
before they wrote much down
strange stories moved from mouth to mouth
well hidden from the crown.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem
A very interesting poetry I must say. Thank you for sharing Liilia.