A Tale

A long time ago

In a faraway land

That's the way that stories go

But this one, you see,

Is different than that

Listen, and then you'll know

 

In this land called faraway

A band of robbers cruel

Kept hamlets and towns

Under their pernicious rule

All knew these men of old

Their faces, smiles, names

Yet there was no chance of help

To escape from their reign

 

One day, while on a raid

Of houses in the wood

They came upon a small brown boy

Whose face, though sad, was good

His parents had been slain that day

By this very robber lord

Who even now saw him

And, being self-assured

Brought him from his hiding-place

And teased with many leers

The boy knew whom he spoke to

But his face was without fear

The robber gang did find him fine

And laughed with evil glee

And said, "Oh, here's a servant,

To sweep and make our tea!"

(They all drank no such thing, of course

They only spoke this way

Being sure of their own humor

Having garnered much that day)

 

And so the boy went home with them

And served them for a year

And after that he still was full

Of merriment and good cheer

They none of them knew this lad

For an orphan they had made

But in the mind of this small boy

There was no debt unpaid

No revenge was in his heart

No vengeance did he seek

His heart was kind; his will was strong

His mouth was quick to speak

 

He became the favorite

Of the robber lord so feared

He was left to speak his mind

And so passed many years

This boy had changed the robber band

No longer did they rule

With such an iron fist

Their hearts no longer cruel

The boy called the lord thief Father

And all the men were Brother

The cookpot and the hunting bow

Were all he had for Mother

The next year died the robber chief

The gang was left to mourn

The boy no one ever found

As though he was never born

 

But 'tis said on the eve of Midwinter's Night

When the wind howls all around

You can hear him crying, crying, crying

His soul cries from the ground

 

When the moon is full

And the geese take flight

And the wolves cry to the moon their song

You can hear him crying, crying, crying,

Singing with the wolves their song

 

He runs with the pack

And he flies with the geese

And he floats with the moon on high

He looks down and he cries, he cries, he cries

Singing with the wolves their song