Wild Huntsman’s Tale
by Albwin
If you at night enter the woods
Be careful what you do
When trav’ling or transporting goods,
For you might meet him too.
Is he a sinner’s petty soul,
In other words: a ghost?
Is he instead the devil foul,
Best known as hell’s vile host?
Is he a god, a fallen one,
Stranded in mortal lands?
Friend, do believe, it is no fun
To fall into his hands!
The wild huntsman, such is his name,
Is someone to be feared.
And truly, he is quite infame,
Much more than he appeared.
This huntsman’s specter on horseback
– Three-legged might be his mount –
Does travel on an airy track
Accompanied by hound.
He chases through the woods at night
On tempest’s stormy path
And does shout “Yoicks!” with all his might.
O, don’t incite his wrath!
Don’t mock his shout nor bugle call
Nor barking of his pack,
Fiery-eyed monstrous dogs, them all,
Which do follow the track.
Be silent, do not try to see
The ghostly wild huntsman.
He’s terrifying, believe me!
Avoid him if you can!
The middle of the path do take
And lay down on the ground.
He will ride past in his own wake.
No harm will do his hound.
But if you are a wood-wife small,
A hoary, wise wood sprite,
This method won’t help you at all
When he hunts you at night.
Your only salvation would be
– Do listen really well! –
The stump of a felled forest tree
Looking as I do tell:
Three cross signs were carved in its bark
Meanwhile the tree did fall.
If you don’t find such in the dark
No rescue is at all.
If the wild huntsman catches you
(If you are a wood-wife)
The cruel things that he will do
Will surely end your life.
He shoots at you, lets his hounds bite,
Carries you on horseback
Your hair tied to the saddle tight.
Then hope you ever lack.
The poor wood-wife, I do tell you,
Is butchered at the end
And eaten, if the rumor true,
Which I don’t hope, my friend.
But humans still face danger, too,
When the huntsman they meet.
I hope that if you ever do
Know what to do you need.
