21 December 2007

A Song for Yule's Eve
The Ballad of Ranger Arvid

.


It was the ranger Arvid
rode homeword through the hills
among the shadowy shiverleafs,
along the chiming hills.

The night wind whispered around him
with scent of brok and rue.
Both moons rode high above him
and hills aflash with dew.

And dreaming of that woman
who waited in the sun,
he stopped, amazed by starlight,
and so he was undone.

For there beneath a barrow
that bulked athwart a moon,
the Outling folk were dancing
in glass and golden shoon.

The Outling folk were dancing
like water, wind and fire
to frosty-ringing harpstrings,
and never did they tire.

To Arvid came she striding
from where she watched the dance,
the Queen of Air and Darkness,
with starlight in her glance.

With starlight, love, and terror
in her immortal eye,
the Queen of Air and Darkness
cried softly under sky:

"Light down, you ranger Arvid,
and join the Outling folk.
You need no more be human,
which is a heavy yoke."

He dared to give her answer:
"I may do naught but run.
A maiden waits me, dreaming
in lands beneath the sun.

And likewise wait me comrades
and tasks I would not shirk,
for what is Ranger Arvid
if he lays down his work?

So wreak your spells, you Outling,
and cast your wrath on me.
Though maybe you can slay me,
you'll not make me unfree."

The Queen of Air and Darkness
stood wrapped about with fear
and northlight-flares and beauty
he dared not look too near.

Until she laughed like harpsong
and said said to him in scorn:
"I do not need a magic
to make you always mourn.

I send you home with nothing
except your memory
of moonlight, Outling music,
night breezes, dew, and me.

And that will run behind you,
a shadow on the sun,
and that will lie beside you
when every day is done.

In work and play and friendship
your grief will strike you dumb
for thinking what you are - and -
what you might have become.

Your dull and foolish woman
treat kindly as you can.
Go home now, Ranger Arvid,
set free to be a man!"

In flickering and laughter
the Outling folk were gone.
He stood along by moonlight
and wept until the dawn.

Source: "The Queen of Air and Darkness"
by Poul Anderson, c1971

4 comments:

Anonymous said...

I have been visiting this site since at least 2000, as it was the only place I could revisit Poul Anderson's "The Queen of Air and Darkness". Have loved this song since SCA member circa 1977. I make a point to try to sing this at a Yellowstone campfire every year. As the decades roll on, I come to understand it more and more. Thank you sincerely. - Tam

Anonymous said...

I have been visiting this site since at least 2008, as it was the only place I could revisit Poul Anderson's "The Queen of Air and Darkness". Have loved this song since SCA member circa 1977. I make a point to try to sing this at a Yellowstone campfire every year. As the decades roll on, I come to understand it more and more. Thank you sincerely. - Tam

Anonymous said...

I sing this song at least once a year, if not more, here in The West. It truly speaks to me, profoundly.

Unknown said...

My childhood memories were awakened by this song while reading Anderson's sci-fi novel. The song reminded me of a strange experience I had in the ruins of an old fortress in Georgia where my father brought us to reconnect with our heritage when I was 6 years old. The ruin is not an official site for tourists since its extremely dilapidated condition. Situated on the top of the mountain it is all broken stone walls and towers covered in vines and moss. It also has multiple entrances into a maze of rock-hewn passages and halls not unlike other abandoned ancient sites such as Vanis Kvabebi, Uplistsikhe, or Vardzia. As a kid I was of agile and curious nature. I wondered almost at the top floor of the complex and could not hear the voices of my sister and parents. I stopped at the kind of natural balcony overseeing a valey down below when I heard a sweet melodic voice saying "What a handsome little boy you are!" I looked around thinking it was some woman giving me a compliment not unlike many of my mother's female friends, my aunts, and other female relatives. Sitting on the edge of a crumbled wall was rather smallish woman with most radiant eyes, and the dress I never seen on women or girls. The fabric was green heavy with bright golden weavings and sparkly glass beads. Glassy beads were so sparkly in the sun that I had trouble fully make out details of her features and appearance. I remember her eyes and voice. She told me I was a boy she was waiting for to show something amazing. She offered me to climb up to her. I remember starting climbing in total disregard of the danger to slip and fall to death. Seeing me climbing, she jumped on her feet and run along the edge of the ruined wall toward the tower protruding from the mountain face. She weaved her hand inviting me to follow and enter the small opening perhaps a passage into the rock complex of the mountain. I think she made a mistake by stepping away from me because her charm eased up a little and I started to think. Fear of hights suddenly overtook me, I could not move further. I loudly called my father. She stopped smiling and her face became stern and her sparkly eyes suddenly cold not kind. The invitation is only for me and me alone she told me. Just before my father appeared on a balcony below she slipped into the passage. My father managed to retrieve me from a the edge of the wall I was clinging to and slapped me on my butt before hugging me and scolding for wandering away. No one ever believed my story, commenting on my wild imagination. The image of a beautiful little woman hunted me in my dreams for a while, but in time my memories faded and stopped bothering me, until I found the song of Arvid.