~*~Faery Poems7~*~

How to Tell Goblins from Elves
Evening Shadows~ The Lepracaun~ The Three Wishes
The Love Talker~ Die Lorelei~ Die Lorelei, German Version

Page 1~Page 2~Page 3~Page 4

How to Tell Goblins from Elves
by Monica shannon

The goblin has a wider mouth
Than any wandering elf.
The saddest part of this is that
He brings it on himself.
For hanging in a willow clump
In baskets made of sheaves,
You may see the baby goblins
Under coverlets of leaves.
They suck a pink and podgy foot
(As human babies do),
And then they suck the other one,
Until they're suking two.
And so it is that goblins' mouths
Keep growing very round
So you can't mistake a goblin
When a goblin you have found.

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Evening Shadows
by Erik Gustaf Geijer

The evening shadows now unfold
Their curtain o'er the lonely wold;
The high wind sighs with dreary moan,
And whispers over stock and stone.
Tramp, Tramp! the trolls come trooping, hark!
Across the moor to the deep woods dark.

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The Leprecaun
by William Allingham

I

Little Cowboy, what have you heard,
Up on the lonely rath's green mound?
Only the plaintive yellow bird*
Sighing in sultry fields around,
Chary, chary, chary, chee-ee!

Only the grasshopper and the bee? -
"Tip-tap, rip-rap,
tick-a-tack-too!
Scarlet leather, sewn together,
This will make a shoe.
Left, right, pull it tight;
Summer days are warm;
Underground in winter,
Laughing at the storm!"
Lay your ear close to the hill.
Do you not catch the tiny clamour,
Busy click of an elfin hammer,
Voice of the Lepracaun singing shrill
As he merrily plies his trade?
He's a span
And a quarter in height.
Get him in sight, hold him tight,
And you're a made
Man!

II

You watch your cattle the summer day,
Sup on potatoes, sleep in the hay;
How would you like to roll in your carriage
Look for a duchess's daughter in marriage?
Seize the Shoemaker - then you may!
"Big boots a-hunting,
Sandals in the hall,
White for a wedding-feast,
Pink for a ball.
This way, that way,
So we make a shoe;
Getting rich every stitch,
Tick-tack-too!"
Nine-and-ninety treasure-crocks
This keen miser fairy hath,
Hid in mountains, woods, and rocks,
Ruin and round tow'r, cave and rath,
And where the comorants build;
From times of old
Guarded by him;
Each of them fill'd
Full to brim
With gold!

III

I caught him at work one day, myself,
In the castle-ditch, where foxglove grows, -
A wrinkled, wizen'd and bearded Elf,
Spectacles stuck on his pointed nose,
Silver buckles to his hose,
Leather apron - shoe in his lap -
"Rip-rap, tip-tap,
Tick-tack-too!
(A grasshopper on my cap!
Away the moth flew!)
Buskins for his son, -
Pay me well, pay me well,
When the job is done!"
The rogue was mine, beyond a doubt.
I stared at him; he stared at me;
"Servant, Sir!" "Humph!" says he,
And pull'd a snuff-box out.
He took a long pinch, look'd better pleased
The queer little Lepracaun;
Offer'd the box with a whimsical grace, -
Pouf! he flung the dust in my face,
And, while I sneezed,
Was gone!

*"yellow bird," the yellow-bunting, or yorlin.

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The Three Wishes
by Mark Shapiro

I caught me a Leprechaun,
and you know what that means!
I got me three big wishes,
and I wanted so many things.
I wanted silver and I wanted gold,
and riches beyond my place,
And castles all in clover,
and love and a beauteous face.
“So what it be, your wish number one?”
asked the Leprechaun all in green.
“I wish I might have beauty,
the most bewitching ever seen.”
“Done!” said the green little Leprechaun,
all with a wave of his hand.
“And I wish,” I said, “to have riches,
the greatest in this land.”
With a flourish and a flutter they did appear
great beauty and my gold,
And then I wished for a lover fair,
all that my heart could hold.
Bedazzled I was when I saw him there,
my knight in armored bob.
“Thank you, Leprechaun,” I gushed with glee,
“You’ve done a most splendid job.”
But the Leprechaun stood near me
seeming unanxious to leave.
“I’m glad you know your mind, lass.
so many waste wishes, you see.”
So enraptured I was with my bounty
that I hardly noticed when
That wee little, green little Leprechaun
began chattering away again.
“Tis a bonnie day, is it not, my lass?
Don’t you wish, lass, it would bid
To stay this way all year long?”
And I replied… I did.
The little trickster laughed with mirth,
and my face did fall.
“The rules be, lass, if a fourth wish you make,
then you lose them all!”

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The Love Talker
by Ethna Carbery

I met the Love-Talker one eve in the glen,
He was handsomer than any of our handsome young men,
His eyes were blacker than sloe, his voice sweeter far
Than the crooning of old Kevin’s pipes beyond in Coolnagar.

I was bound for the milking with a heart fair and free –
My grief! My grief! that bitter hour drained the life from me;
I thought him human lover, thought his lips on mine were cold,
And the breath of death blew keen on me within his hold.

I know not what way he came, no shadow fell behind,
But all the sighing rushes swayed beneath a faery wind,
The thrush ceased its singing, a mist crept about,
We two clung together – with the world shut out.

Beyond the ghostly mist I could hear my cattle low,
The little cow from Bellina, clean as driven snow,
The dun cow from Kerry, the roan from Inisheer,
Oh, pitiful their calling – and his whispers in my ear!

His eyes were a fire; his words were a snare;
I cried my mother’s name, but no help was there;
I made the blessed Sign; then he gave a dreary moan,
A wisp of cloud went floating by, and I stood alone.

Running ever through my head, is an old-time rune –
“Who meets the Love-Talker must weave her shroud soon.”
My mother’s face is furrowed with the salt tears that fall,
But the kind eyes of my father are the saddest sight of all.

I have spun the fleecy lint, and now my wheel is still,
The linen length is woven for my shroud fine and chill,
I shall stretch me on the bed where a happy maid I lay –
Pray for the soul of Maire Og at dawning of day!

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Die Lorelei
by Heinrich Heine

I don't know what it may signify
That I am so sad;
There's a tale from ancient times
That I can't get out of my mind.

The air is cool and the twilight is falling
and the Rhine is flowing quietly by;
the top of the mountain is glittering
in the evening sun.

The loveliest maiden is sitting
Up there, wondrous to tell.
Her golden jewelry sparkles
as she combs her golden hair

She combs it with a golden comb
and sings a song as she does,
A song with a peculiar,
powerful melody.

It seizes upon the boatman in his small boat
With unrestrained woe;
He does not look below to the rocky shoals,
He only looks up at the heights.

If I'm not mistaken, the waters
Finally swallowed up fisher and boat;
And with her singing
The Lorelei did this.

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Die Lorelei, German Version
by Heinrich Heine

Ich weiß nicht, was soll es bedeuten,
Daß ich so traurig bin;
Ein Märchen aus alten Zeiten,
Das kommt mir nicht aus dem Sinn.

Die Luft ist kühl, und es dunkelt,
Un ruhig fließt der Rhein;
Der Gipfel des Berges funkelt
In Abendsonnenschein.

Die schönste Jungfrau sitzet
Dort oben wunderbar,
Ihr goldenes Geschmeide blitzet,
Sie kämmt ihr goldenes Haar.

Sie kämmt es mit goldenem Kamme
Und singt ein Leid dabei;
Das hat eine wundersame,
Gewaltige Melodei.

Den Schiffer im kleinen Schiffe
Ergreift es mit wildem Weh;
Er schaut nicht die Felsenriffe,
Er schaut nur hinauf in die Höh'.

Ich glaube, die Wellen verschlingen
Am Ende Schiffer uns Kahn;
Und das hat mit ihrem Singen
Die Lorelei getan.

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