The Wandering Student, Part 2

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Status: Finished  |  Genre: Poetry  |  House: Booksie Classic
This is the second part of the story of the wandering student, and this is still not the end. This part actually tells the events that preceded the arrival of the student. Some elements of this part were taken from the original legend, such as the saddle and the frog, the church bells and the crossroads. Other things were made up by me.

Submitted: May 28, 2008

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Submitted: May 28, 2008

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The Wandering Student, Part 2
 
The day was young, so young and dark
That every tree was sleeping tight
A shepherd boy, some weary child
On the road he went.
He went to plough the field of lords
To make their corn gain fair colors
And earn some sweet white bread.
 
His father taught him every way
How to pray and send away
Those evil spirits sailing in the air.
“Never stop and never care!”
 
“Crossroads are the devil’s home.
Do not cross them on your own!
And if you see a man or lady
Shiny, dirty, bright or shady
Do not stop and do not care!
’Tis the place where demons dwell.”
 
But this morning he was sleepy
Poor shepherd boy was so dreamy
Could not hear the harsh giggles
Of creatures low and bad.
At the crossroads there he met,
A student there he met.
He was dressed in black velvet.
His eyes were sad, a face of death he wore.
“Where to go? Where to go?”
His soul so questioned all the ants
(Beware! Beware them wandering students!)
 
With a saddle in his hand
He chased a frog down in the sand
Such a saddle, smallest saddle
He had ever seen.
“For what that saddle?” asked the boy
And sat down on the dirty soil
Which looked just like that book of black leather.
 
“Careful, young boy with my book
Should you dare one greedy look,
It swallows up your strength and youth
And brings you black feathers.”
 
“But help me now,” so the student spoke
“And put this saddle on my horse”
“What horse?” asked he from the bog,
The shepherd boy asked from the bog.
“Oh, it’s the frog, that crafty frog,”
The wandering student thus replied
(And with the strangest smile he sighed)
“I’ve chased him all along the road.”
He pointed at the ugly toad.
 
“Now I will go and find a leash
For my new slave. You stay
And chase my other toy”
The student said, and left the boy
Who sat down to a windy nook
With the frog and with the book
That book of blackest arts.
 
And once he was there all alone
With the book of blackest arts,
It whispered words unknown to him,
And urged him: “Open! Open me!”
“I’ll make you rich, I’ll make you free!
A noble lord of wealth and fame
And all the ladies know your name”
So seduced by that singing tongue
He opened up the book of foe
But then, he cried: “God, I am blind
And I can feel those feathers black
Feathers growing on my back”
He turned into a crow and blindly flew away
 
All this the student watched and came
Back to the crossroads, there he came
He took his book (now silent, closed)
From the dusty ground.
And standing on the road he asked,
“Now, where to go? Where to go?”
He looked around and saw the crow
Flying to our humble village
In the light of dawn.
That is how they came to us
The blind crow on the unseen leash
Followed by a vicious breeze
The dirty young man dressed in black
A black book in his hands.
Beware! Beware those wandering students!
 
They came to us, and the friar cried,
(For he knew well the evil sight)
“Scare him! Scare him far away!”
Let the church bells sing their songs
For church bells make the evil scared
And this one message to us he sent:
“Beware! Beware the wandering student!”


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