Remember the Tale of Bruno

I'd like to tell a little bit about this poem. The very first poem I wrote was called "The Warrior" (see profile at bottom of page). The poem told the story about a young warrior who did what was right even though it meant death, while every body else ran away. The poem itself was terrible, but I liked the message. So, several years later, I wrote a second poem. It is less obvious, but it has the same idea. "forbidden love," "sacrifice," and of course a bit of tragedy mixed in. As you read this poem, think about the theme. I know it's not very original. You've seen it in many action films, but it's still a little example of what Christ did on the cross. Think about that, okay?

And by the way, go ahead and fall in love with Bruno. It's okay. I already have.

Many tales have been told

By minstrels, old and young.

But have you heard that tale old

Of Bruno, yet been sung?

It is an ancient tale now

And known by very few.

If it pleases you to allow

I'll proceed in telling you.

Behold a man of bearing rough

That lived upon a farm;

His face was kind, but manner tough.

(Think not this be a yarn!)

Within his arms there dwelled a might

Unmatched by almost all,

And when they saw him, such a sight!

So righteous...and so tall!

The people called him Bruno,

Meaning 'good and quiet' both,

And when I finish, you will know

Of Bruno's love, and wrath.

Behold this Bruno had his eye

Upon a maiden fair,

And when she lightly passed him by,

He could but only stare!

But she, she had no love for him

Except as for a kin.

So Bruno had to hide his whim;

His heart, he kept it in.

But everybody knew of this--

Of Bruno's fervent love.

Yet pity on the heart of his!

There was another 'love.'

A wealthy count of Cristoph land

There was, not far away.

Behold the power in his hand,

The cruelty of his way!

The maiden's father was a man

Determined in his heart

That she should be a wealthy one,

Not to be set apart.

And so, despite his daughter's plea,

He vowed unto the count,

That maiden and he should marry...

In return for a large amount.

It hurt the maiden very much

To know that soon would she

Be married to that vile such:

A countess would she be!

And so that night, she cast her shawl

About her, and then went,

To see him that loved her more then all

With whom her youth was spent.

At Bruno's door there fell her knock,

Answering it he came.

To see her late was quite a shock,

But ever was he tame.

Then th maiden that Bruno loved

Told of her dreadful fate,

And on her knees, she crying beggen,

If it was yet too late.

"The villian!" cried our Bruno, roused,

His anger now awake.

"A duel! I'll crush him to the ground!"

He roared in a fiery quake.

The maiden, seeing his sudden rage,

Began to tell him, "Nay!"

But once aroused could not be caged

That Bruno's rightrous hate.

And so it was that Bruno did

To the Count message send,

And summoning him, Bruno bid

A duel, the next day's end.

At sunset on the dueling day,

The Count and Farmer met

To end a fight in a man's way,

Their lives to Fate did let.

At dropping of the cloth their came

The ring and shout of sword.

The two men fought, each one afamed,

A Farmer, and a Lord.

The men were equal, it was clear,

And still the battle fought.

Until the men began to wear,

And tiredness was wrought.

The maiden and her father watched

And with them was the town.

The breath of each was tensely caught,

Each mouth marked with a frown.

The ring of steel, not quite so fierce,

The night, so very late!

But death would very soon appear

In it's most cruel shape...

A shrill cry was heard from one man,

In the dark falling down.

The darkness deepened in the land

As blood dripped on the ground.

This man had given his your life

For chance of his lover

And though she's never be his wife,

She might not be another's!

Yet now he lay as dead as Seoul,

From earth, gone forever.

And with the parting of his soul

Rose the sobbing of her.

Remember the tale of Bruno

As this world you live in.

He gave his life for another

Knowing he couldn't win.