The massacre was begun - being the hunters afar,
gone outside and looking for - the flesh of long no-man´s land
which the deftest of the saltings - could preserve as a whole
as the grim white winter´s cloak - was covering the hillsides
eager for elders´ bodies, - women in labour, newborns.
The assailants ordered someone - to slaughter the sentinel,
once his throat was slit - then the wholesale town
opened out before their swords - the same as a tender maid:
they ravished the young ladies, - lanced children and old women.
There were old men trying to fight; - they spat their aged heads
over sharpened stakes - so that all could see them;
the most insane delight - beamed on their fierce faces.
They hid the female slaves - into the outskirts wood.
They prepared their stalking - nefarious wait was started.
Then the leader, Nulvator, - who returned with his men
heard horrid hair-raising stealth - sniffed blood already clotted,
the palisade transposed - a hail of an arrows´ flight
ran into the very hearts - of half his strained square.
The armour-plated weasels - emerged from their burrows
prepared to finish off - that cunning artful incursion
by impaling Nulvator - from his backside to his head
over a fine edged stake - so that all could see him.
Coats of burnished steel, - sallets of cruel crest
against doublets of skin, - assagais of woodwork,
Nulvator´s progenitor, - who handed over to him
urged twenty soldiers on - yelling out his last harangue
so as to cover the retreat - of his scion to the caves
with all the rest of the warriors - as though they fled from the field.
Those who stayed on there - eager sought sure death,
to contain the enemy - till the end of their forces
and just to fall down in battle, - ah, just to fall down in scuffle!
The insatiable scrawny one - was expecting harvest time
near to sharp-pointed stakes - so that all could see It.
Nulvator´s armed retinue - had to spend springtime,
autumn and snowfalls - into the murky caverns
of recondite nooks and corners, - humid pitch-dark hollows
stalking creepy crawly things, - bats and whitish blind-eyed carps,
lighting the sparing wood, - thicket and undergrowth
which their sullen god would set - adrift on underground streams
whereas Rak the chief invader- and the cringing Laribina,
hidden Nulvator´s wife - treacherous mean loved one
were savouring the meat - the kind Nulvator had brought,
into a hot warm shack, - all around flanked by heads
upon bloodstained stakes - so that all could see them.
There were no more conquerors, - that was a waste land
of chilly late afternoons - and freezing eternal mists,
drab dun lichen, birch-trees - cypresses, famished beasts
large rocks, boulders, bare tops, - overclouded watercourses;
they dropped their guard soon, - the women were so tender
their husband being entombed - in the hyaenas´ venter
and their delicate embraces - tasted like honey of spices,
for all girls that ran away - those who quickly captured them
made them to spit slowly - before their turn was arrived
with their tremulous soft hands - their own beloved kinswomen
upon cruelly grinded stakes - for standing maiden to see them.
When the wintertime was dying - with the hindermost snowfall
emaciated skin shadows - protecting their eye-sockets
from the overcast moonlight - emerged leaving their caves
iron knives in their hands - and ropes of reed grass
the same night that hamlet women - in the wine of evening meal
remixed silent cautiously - leaves of poppy and aconite.
The rising morn lighted up - a horrific brand-new forest
of moaning whining invaders - upon crimson reddened leaf buds
before Rak and Laribina, - both tied with thick strong ropes,
all trees watered with blood - except for two new stakes,
two stakes being well greased - so that both could see them.
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"hola quiera saber algo mas sobre este tema " -- erika claudia maldonado , Bolivia , A ndres ibañez, Santa cruz.
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