Herr Mannelig - (Reborn In Dunia)

What if the famous Swedish folk song was in a world with monstergirls?

I know nothing about syllable count and poeticism, so I just kept it rhyming. I know, completely noobish.

Sir Mannelig

Early one morning before the sun did rise
And the birds sang their sweet song
The mountain troll proposed to the fair squire
She had a false deceitful tongue

Sir Mannelig, Sir Mannelig won't you marry me
For all that I'll gladly give you
You may answer only yes or no
Will you do so or no

To you I will give the twelve great steeds
That graze in a shady grove
Never has a saddle been mounted on their backs
Nor had a bit in their mouths

To you I will give the twelve fine mills
That stand between Tillo and Terno
The mill stones are made of the reddest brass
And the wheels are silver-laden

To you I will give the gilded sword
That jingles from fifteen gold rings
And strike with it in battle as you will
On the battlefield you will conquer

To you I will give a brand new shirt
The lustrous best for to wear
It is not sewn with needle or thread
But crocheted of the whitest silk

Gifts such as these I would gladly receive
If you were a Christian woman
But I know you are the worst mountain troll
From the spawn of Necken and the devil

The mountain troll ran out the door
She wailed and she shrieked so loudly
"Had I gotten that handsome squire
From my torment I would be free now"

**

Poor Troll lass ran and wept 'til Lescat's eve,
Crying her eyes out,
"My hand and heart bereft of love,
No man desires me, not even a lout."

She was in front of her cave sulking,
Her mouth uttering not a word,
Mannelig's squire was lost, wandering,
Searching for his Lord's lost sword.

There he with iron boots trod,
Snapped twigs, sending peaceful birds scared,
The Troll-Lass shrieked disturbed,
"Watch where you step, you artless clod!"

The squire, a lad of a score winters,
His heart full of fear,
The Troll-Lass raised his eyebrows,
"Another human. Why don't you come near?"

Careful did the squire approach,
His hand on his blade,
Though he knew, would not hurt trollskin much,
And greeted her with hidden reproach.

"Good evening, Troll-Lady,
Forgive me disturbing your home."
The squire kept his distance sword at ready,
"For I am on an important errand, soon I'll be gone."

The Troll did not break her glare,
"I am hunted and hounded,
Will you kind give me no peace?
Till I am eternally grounded."

This was Dunia where squire lived,
His heart not turned to stone,
"Surely you can be a friend,
No one seeks to raze your home?"

Troll's smile was bitter, her face hopeful,
Her heart ablaze with hidden desire,
"Certainly this naive young man may be,
The one to make my heart and hand full?"

The Troll smiled, under the lips fangs giving way,
"I'm just a poor lass living alone,
Denied by an ignoble lord, cast away,
Surely you aren't a man to threaten my home?"

The Squire sheathed his sword,
His head tilted to the side
"I would not dare break my word,
Harming a maiden faire."

The Troll's heart leapt,
Her face with hidden joy shone
"What a man, lovely and so apt,
and a kind tongue did his heart hone."

Sir Squire, Sir Squire won't you sup with me
For a night's stay, for pity's sake
You may answer only yes or no
Will you do so or no

So did the squire sit down with her,
To share the evening's sustenance,
Gladly helped her supper,
To sustain a night's solace.

As the night sank into blessed darkness,
The troll found herself hungry for tenderness,
She could ask with timid measure,
"Noble Squire, wouldst thou share my warmth and closeness?"

The squire, noble and manly as he was,
Could not deny the Troll Girl's charms,
For the comfort of a warm woman,
Is the gift of the Gods.

The squire embraced her,
Monster-woman of the woods,
She-troll clad in brown bark,
Princess of the mounds.

Man and monster alone,
Abandoned by kith and kin,
Faces shyly came close,
To share the night's sin.

His lips touched hers,
Their first kiss ablaze,
Her lips touches his,
Wanton lust, mouths agape.

Both locked in kiss embraced,
Squire's armor came loose,
The troll-woman smiled,
Her cloak stripped, quiet as a mouse.

The squire stripped his clothes,
The troll took off her rags,
And the man's breath was short,
In the troll girl's arms.

Gently they knit close,
The troll girl's heart beat fast,
They united at their loins,
Their hearts united at last.

In the cave the squire took her,
Poor virgin troll, taken with care,
The squire's virginity mattered not,
A man's body laid bare.

Monster and man made love,
In the late night fire,
The troll was full of love,
And her womb on fire.

Troll girl and knight loved each other,
In defiance of the Law Above,
But the squire came hither,
Forgot his duty to Lord, and embraced Love.

This poor poet begs pardon,
For he is the son of Wolf and Raven,
King's English and poetry he butchered wanton,
And only asks to be forgiven.

Esteban Von Chucha, 27 December 2017

KEK Bless this sacred double digit date.