Mi Contra Fa

Birthday Invitation

We invited TRM Vladimir and Kalisa to Storvik's baronial birthday in 2009 with a poem.  It sketches Storvik's early history as well.  Another way poets can involve themselves in baronial activities. 

Seanan, sovereign  stalwart king of East
Saw in his south  separate shires
Aster, fair flower  farthest to south
Caer Cladach  created from stone
Mighty Murklndr  men of strong arms
Also Tarhvassir      talented scholars

A single shire  Seagate they formed
At royal request  they reduced their numbers
But better, they thought  to be barony
Seanan agreed  So south he sailed

Doughty duchess        deserved his trust
Ysabeau Cameron  crowned by king
Bright baroness  of a-borning lands
By the Great Bay  bathed in salt spray
Storvik is formed  by Seanan's hand

Storvik has stood  strong by the bay
Baronies birthed,  battles well-fought
Thirty years old  come autumn's chill

Vladimir, prince,  we pray and implore
Not for bright riches  rings from your hand
But blessed our birthday  if bold foe-slayer
And clever queen  Kalisa most kind
Came to celebrate  with kinfolk and friends
Our hearth and home  Our hall and mead-bench
We open for you  We ask that you come
No better boon  for barony's birth

By Your Side

Written July 13, AS XLII (2007), upon receipt of a letter from Blackspear Warlord Finn O'Donovan. Original tune in the Atlantian style.

Five long and four deep
Our swords and shields keep
Our spears from the sweep
Of the foe

By your side, by your side
I will march
By your side

The shield-on-shield clash
Lifts hearts bold and brash
We battle and lash
At the foe

By your side, by your side
I will fight
By your side

Your heart's blood to stain
The ground was his aim
Instead I lay slain
By the foe

By your side, by your side
I will die
By your side

We win or we lose
But battle we choose
And none of rues
Us our fate

By your side, by your side
I find glory
By your side

By your side, by your side
Blackspear, I will be
By your side

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Lord Finn O'Donovan published a short letter to our local email list, telling the story of a fighter who insisted on fighting alone, pursuing his own goals, rather than stand with a unit.  He said:

The purpose of fighting together is that two of us can always beat one opponent.  Many of us, working together, can always best many more than our numbers.  I have been on the field with many of you as we crushed multiple lines of fighters, reformed, and crushed another line.  We, Blackspear, have chosen to set aside our singularity, our personal motives, for the benefit of us all.  Ironically, in doing so, we each grow.  As individuals we are inspired, strengthened, and elevated.

I have a strong inclination to individualism myself, but this testimony to the power of a warrior community moved me to pick up my pen and reply with the song, above.

A Poem for... Some Thing or Another

Written Februrary 2004.  Ragnar, king; Johanna, baroness; Sylvanus Perrin, warlord. 

...What melee event happens in February?

Eager and ready     are Eastern warriors
Strong, hardy men     from snow-covered reaches
Bold, brave battlers      border our north
Atlantia's best     must bar their way
Wise is Ragnar    right choice made
Good battle-king     great in wisdom
Seeking in Storvik    a stalwart man
His thane Johanna     offers her best
From these warriors     a warlord of old
Many campaigns     called forth has he
Keen of mind     mettlesome man
Sylvanus Perrin     praised in men's songs
Well will he lead     large armies now
From broken black tower     borders are watched
Fear, foemen!     The fight will be hard.

Poetry for All Occasions

Back in 2003, then-Lord William le Younger asked on the Storvik list:

Hey, can a bard help me here with a poetic way of saying “come and drink beer and socialize”

And I replied:

Riders rode out      on ruddy steeds
Glad news they bear:    Beer in the hall!
William Beer-Gifter    generous man
Hearth and home opens    this holiday time
Let harp be strummed    and song spill forth
And brave boasts made    while byrnies repaired.

Then in 2012, now-Baron William told me, with a smile, that he had saved "that armoring poem I wrote for [him.]"  I had no idea what he was talking about, until I began to clean out my inbox and found this.

I am such a big fan of writing poetry at the drop of a hat, y'all.  It advances the art of poetry by bringing it visibility and incorporating it into more workaday situations.  It usually gladdens the people who inspire it.  If you're fluent in one or more forms, you can shake out a quick quatrain or sextet, maybe a bit rough, but that's okay.  This isn't for someone's award scroll - it's a disposable reply on an e-list.  It's for fun, for practice, for a bit of unexpected art.

I'm trying to get back into the habit of it, myself.

Storvik's Bloody Warband

Written in 2006 at the request of Baron Sean DelaMar of Storvik as something for the Storvik warriors to sing into battle.  To the tune of 'Garyowen,' or something sort of like it.  It was around this time that I hit on calling songs like this 'in the Atlantian style.'

CHORUS
Our shield are locked, our spears are raised
We march to war and none afraid
No quarter given, no treaty made
With Storvik's bloody war-band

So listen you lads and hark to my lyre
I'll sing you an anthem that's sure to inspire
And always remember that Storvik means fire
Marching with Storvik's war-band

They drink all night by then by day
They lead Atlantia into the fray
When shield walls clash, the disarray 
Of foes we see quite plainly

They're doctors too but give no pills
No concoctions, never bills
A spear to the head cures all of your ills
When you stand against Storvik

Our Very Authentic Order of Precedence

A tongue-in-cheek reply to a new-to-the-SCA gentle on the baronial list who apologized for using 'Mistress' as a courtesy title for a non-noblewoman.

Our Precendental Order
In Ye Olde S. C. A.
Can be a bit confusing
If you're new to our play

A baron's higher than a lord
Well, yes, that makes sense
And counts and dukes rank higher still
As we count precedence.

But a guild man who's a Master
Or a simple Knight
Stand well above our titled lords
By several feet of height!

You'd think the role of servant
Might not be so great
But Mistress Pelican o'erflies
The barons at their gates

(And though we bow to King and Queen
- At least that's not complex! -
Our events and all their trimmings
Come from Exchequer's lowly checks!)

Last-Minute KASF Stuff

Smackdown Poem 3 begins:

Agolant, wise king, sat with Charlemagne to dine
Hoping peaceful resolution with him to find
A treaty to make, al-Andalous spared war vile
He looks about the table and asks his host why
His men are clothed differently, in different styles.

"Those in robes of single hue are priests, holy men,"
Answered the Franish king, "Who offer grace from heaven."
"In black, the monks. They pray and scribe gospel with pen.
Through the work of both, we are spared from Satan's web."

Then spied Agolant thirty men in filthy rags,
Sitting in the dirt, they had no (something) , eating scraps

Assonance is hard, y'all! I may have to finish this on paper, day-of or something.  I haven't done anything so last-minute in ages!

______________

Roland is printed out, have to make sure it made it into the binder. And/or frame. I've heard some other bards mention they wanted a translation (I think it was Master Efenwealt on the Performer's Guild list?) so putting it 'out there' in case anyone wants to use it might be a good idea.

'Thor and the Moose' is not getting a frame.

Should print out Smackdown poems that are complete. Performing copies, copies for binder.  Copies for Poeta? *madly scatters papers into the air* Copies for everybody!

_______________

Need to decide if the poster stand works to hold the lyre.

_______________

Garb is packed.  Most A&S stuff is packed. Select instrument(s) to bring.  Need to pack feast gear, snacks, mundane toiletries, music for car ride.  Tonight, since I'm leaving from work tomorrow. Also, replace windshield wiper blade.

 

KASF Smackdown 4

"Poet's choice," time period 1250-1492. The rondeau is a 13th-15th cen form. It changed and evolved, but as late as Machaut a simple 8-line ABaAabAB line could be used.  I tried this one without regular English meter for a change.

All the dishes are washed and dried
My loving heart weeps with gladness
I returned to our home and sighed
- All the dishes are washed and dried -
Thus I know that here, love abides
And I feel no scorn or sadness
All the dishes are washed and dried
My loving heart weeps with gladness

KASF Smackdown 3

A praise poem, from either 1000-1250 or 1250-1492.

Well, the chansons de geste are good, solid 12th century stuff and of interest to me.

Song of Roland: 12-syllable alexandrines arranged in laisses of irregular length, each line ending in assonance (not strict rhyme).  Typically a caesura after the 4th syllable.

Poema del Mio Cid: 14 or 16(ish) syllable lines also linked by assonance.

But who to praise?  Looking over the cast of 'Roland,' and recognizing that I have a translation of the Norwegian 'Song of Roland' in my book, I thought: How about somebody from the other team?

Agolant looks like a good bet, a noble African king from across the sea, come to free God's people from the northern barbarians.  Historia Caroli Magni.  Aspremont.

EDIT: Thomas Rodd's 1812 translation of the Historia Caroli Magni, in which Agolant is termed "Argolander."  May provide an incident to write up.

But then should this be written as a chanson de geste?  Arabic poetry.  Arabic epic literature.  Examples from al-Andalus.  I could go either way on this - in one way, it makes more sense to write it in the form that belongs to the people who would be cheering Agolant.  On the other hand, there's a certain... rightness to casting it as a chanson de geste.

EDIT 2: Oh yeah! Here we go, from Rodd, Chapter 13:

On the third day Argolander attended the King, as he promised, and found him at dinner. Many tables were spread at which the guests were sitting; some in military uniform; some in black; some in Priests' habits; which Argolander perceiving, inquired what they were? "Those you see in robes of one colour," replied the King, "are priests and bishops of our holy religion, who expound the gospel to us, absolve us from our offences, and bestow heavenly benediction. Those in black are monks and abbots; all of them holy men, who implore incessantly the divine favour in our behalf." But in the meantime Argolander espying thirty poor men in mean habiliments, without either table or table-cloth, sitting and eating their scanty meals upon the ground, he inquired what they were? "These," replied the King, "are people of God, the messengers of our Lord Jesus, whom in his and his Apostles names we feed daily." Argolander then made this reply: "The guests at your table are happy; they have plenty of the best food set before them; but those you call the messengers of God, whom you feed in his name, are ill fed, and worse clothed, as if they were of no estimation. Certainly he must serve God but indifferently who treats his messengers in this manner, and thus do you prove your religion false." Argolander then refused to be baptized, and, returning to his army, prepared for battle on the morrow.

A Brief Satire

Naturally, as soon as I decide to hang up that hat, it figures itself out.

An arm as weak as brittle straw
A strike as slow as a frozen stream
A love as hollow as the body of my harp
- This fate to them who abuse the movement of the righteous Spirit

When it was proposed to alter Corpora to explicitly permit the participation of same-sex couples in Crown, a virtual army of strawmen appeared, claiming that some nefarious people might abuse the new rule to give their household twice the chance of gaining the throne: that Sir A and Sir B could fight for each other in the lists.  Or perhaps the boogeyman would be that Sir A would fight for Sir B one list, and then Sir B would fight for Sir A in the next?  I confess I'm not exactly keen on the rules for who may fight, past "current sitting King may not."  But the gist of it was, Sirs A and B would be straight men taking advantage of a rule meant to allow same-sex couples to fight for the ones they hold most dear.

I devoutly hope that no one in our chivalrous and courteous Society would be so brash and so grasping as to twist the rules in this fashion.  If so, this curse be upon them.

Information on early Irish verse isn't easy to come by.  It was apparently very complicated and may not translate well into English forms, but alliteration, consonance and assonance were said to play roles. I think I hit some of that.  The Comic Irishman's second chapter, The Masque of Satire, gives some further examples of early curse-style satire, and the rule of three seems to be in effect.

Looks like class notes on early Irish poetry.

Bibliography and links on medieval Irish poetry.

CELT's page of Irish medieval poetry.

JSTOR article on Praise, Satire and the Early Irish Poet.

 EDIT: Changed out 'righteous' for 'generous.'