The next stave of The Wild Swans

Stave 5

Elisa embraced each of her brothers,

Calling out their names, laughing and crying,

While they told about their wicked stepmother:

How she had turned them into swans

Only as long

As the sun shone;

At night they returned to human form,

Finding firm ground

At sundown

Or they would fall from the sky

And die.

She had found them that night,

Resting before a long flight

To a beautiful land

On the other side of the sea.

Once a year they were allowed

To visit their father’s castle,

Where they were born,

And the towers of the church

Where they would mourn

Their mother, who was buried there,

And could watch over their sister.

The next day, Elisa woke to the whirr of wings:

Her brother swans were flying

In circles and then they were gone,

All except the youngest one,

Who would not leave

While she stroked his snowy down.

In the evening,

When the sunset burned,

The ten brothers returned.

All night they plaited

Reeds and willow bark.

At the sound of the lark,

The sun rose

And so did the eleven swans,

Carrying the sleeping Elisa

Up to the clouds

On her own magic carpet.

 

© Kim M. Russell, 2016

Image found on wild-swans.com