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Enthroned
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Slechtvalk
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1
Deep in the wilderness, on a forgotten path,
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a wanderer is striding forth.
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Persistent his walk, and by oath of allegiance,
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bound to go up North.
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His stern face carved by the years he endured,
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by journeys, battles and long winter months.
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With the westening sun he proudly marched on,
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for an army of strength was mustered once more.
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To shorten his way and to hasten for the muster,
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he takes a long-lost road.
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Now with the sun almost sunken
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and the shadows prolonged,
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he contemplates his oath.
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As at his wonder, a ruin he saw,
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like an ancient dwelling,
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now only heaps of stones.
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Overgrown in nature's shrines,
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an echo of what once was
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in yesteryears long gone.
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Full of wonder,
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he became aware of a marble,
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black-veined throne,
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while his eyes gazed at vague remnants
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of engraved heraldic arms.
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He marvelled at the bliss
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of this forlorn kingdom to him unbeknown,
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as a mist came crawling over the
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cracked old stone-paved floor.
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With a sigh of the wind,
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a haze arose over this old hall,
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and the more he stared at this upcoming veil,
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the more ghostly shapes he saw.
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Graciously wandering and dancing around,
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drifting on an unseen wind,
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with wonder and awe he witnessed this theatre
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with an unfolding play.
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Now solemn and peaceful,
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then with glory and might,
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full of splendour and passion.
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There were satyrs and troubadours,
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jesters and high lords,
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peasants and squires evoking his impression.
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Then slowly came forth in a shadow of threat,
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a tyrant surrounded by his thralls.
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Perverted shadows, though fairest in appearance,
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full of sickening lies, blending into the play.
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Wholly intrigued but unwilling to witness
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the end of this mystical play,
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his eyes where fixed on the tyrant and his thralls.
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How humble they bowed as they kneeled at his feet.
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They crowned him and hailed him
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as a high Lord of old,
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humbling themselves as his servants.
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Knowing in his heart all their acting is deceit,
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still he could not turn away his eyes.
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Full of hate for this tyrant,
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but like enchanted by this play.
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The thrilling beauty, their cunning and might,
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the temptation of their charms.
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From this filth infected theatre,
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finally he turned his sight away.
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Then to his horror he found himself
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now sitting chained...
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Slowly the black veins of the marble throne
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had him partly overgrown.
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He felt the cold grip of stone clamping his flesh,
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slowly enslaving him whole.
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From serenity fallen, the play endured,
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he witnessed it with a moan.
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All beauty brought down by sickening lies
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to foul and horrible shapes.
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Värj dig frå lögnaren,
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svekets ansikte,
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människans förgörare.
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Tortured by the growing black veins,
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crowned with poisonous filth
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by rancid whores drenched in lies.
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He cried like an insane while foul laughter roared,
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"Damned all your lies, your whores and your slaves!
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Twisted your words, full of deceit
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your damned calumny!"
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The tyrant was smiling, looking down on his prey,
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slowly fading with the mist in the rain.
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Now darkness surrounded the overgrowing man
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and with the rain his life faded away.
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Once on a morning on a bright winter day,
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the first sunbeams were shining gloomy
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on a marble statue in the midst of a ruin
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of a man enthroned like a high Lord of old:
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grim his face and firmly grasping his throne.
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On the first step of the throne
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an inscription was engraved:
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"Enthroned by lies, faded away into oblivion."
Enthroned - "Raviasamin" (Official Music...
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