- Poetry
The Locksmith’s Prologue
Rotund and brown-skinned, there is a locksmith,
Whose smile so honest, people trust him with
No hesitance. Bulged belt bag (attesting
His passion) he carries, inside nesting
Seventy metal bars, names and unique
Functions of which he knows by heart: oblique
Hooks do deadbolts but never lever locks.
With renowned skills and integrity, flocks
Of costumers he attracts, accolade
Of responsibility he is paid.
The Locksmith’s Tale
“In a remote piece of land where merry
Men sang of the beauty of a fairy,
The ancient king anxiously waited his
Only son to marry. Knowing duties
Of him were law and marriage, the young prince
Has been searching for his Venus long since:
White as cheese, red as blood. Miles of roads he
Walked day and night, night and day leagues of sea
He sailed, until a humped lady came to
Him in the Island of Ogresses, ‘Do
Trust me please, you will have what you desire,
Yet follow things I’m saying, I require:
Three locks bestowed on you, open only
Next to a fountain. Freed fairies pronely
Survive not if water is not given
At once.’ Rushing back home in eleven
Days, the delighted prince obeyed with care.
First two failed, however, and the third, fair
As cheese and blood, came to life. The prince went
To fetch his love clothing, when a slave, sent
By her master for water, saw beside
The fountain the beauty. With a defied
Burden — one who betrays duties will be
punished, I can promise — as a slave, she
Tricked and killed the adorable girl out
Of jealousy, and told the prince about
The magic of transforming—faked dreading.
He and the slave soon had their grand wedding.
One gift was a lock, and the prince, surprised,
Dealt it with the same steps, getting his prized
Fairy back. Truth was told, the slave was burned.
Lesson of obligations should be learned:
Things on earth, each and all (a small lock pick,
A slave), have special roles assigned to stick
With from birth, to be responsible for
Till death. That’s the key to the glory door.”