Thursday, March 27, 2014

A Beorning Poem



My good friend, Petr Florianek (gullinburstiblog.blogspot.com ; gullinbursti.cz), has done some beautiful work creating a material culture for Tolkien's world. One of his efforts has been in creating a Beorning culture, circling around everyone's favorite big, boisterous bear-man from the Hobbit, Beorn. Petr has his own inspirations behind his work in this style, but I find the work itself to be the inspiration. He's done a great job creating this and other Tolkienian art styles, and I hope to one day explore this area myself. He asked me to commemorate his Knife of Beorn with a poem. It's not in the usual Germanic style, but I think it's appropriate. I hope you enjoy it.


Where once a bear
had made his home,
a man now lives there,
all alone.
Mead he drinks
and honey eats,
and runs faster
than any beast.
But now and then,
some men have said,
the bear returns
to his old bed.
And sleeping there
beside the fire,
his hunger grows,
his growling dire.
And forest-men,
when passing there,
are terrified
of that old bear.
With unstrung bows
and heads hung low,
they softly walk
through the meadow.
They do not dare
to hunt with hounds,
and are careful
to make no sounds.
And when they see
the fearsome bear,
they know they are
alone out there.
For never when
the beast does roam,
can the bee-man
be found at home.



Copyright © 2014 Myles Mulkey
Images courtesy of Petr Florianek (gullinbursti.cz)

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