楼主的第一首原创作品，望诸位大神多多指教^_^
(话说这文被学校聘的外教当着楼主一班同学骂成狗了，因为不是小说文体，而且是同人，甚至被贴上了“中国学生没有原创精神”的标签...若大家能给予一点认可，也是对楼主的鼓励吧)
The Hanging of Lord Naarifin
(A Cyrodiilic ballad)
1.
‘T was when the frost had fallen
And the sun did swell with dusk
With pride she shone, our tower
White-gold, ‘gainst the gust
The Niben flowed so lightly
Ere the elf came to its shores
O’er the winding river
To the palace bright of yore
“What words of ill ye bring me,
Elf-folk from the south?
I trust not ye ‘n ye brethren,
Sweet-toothed, in ‘eir mouth!”
O harsh the emperor’s words be
Yet harsher the elven-gift
For a hundred heads rolled o’er
When his veiled cart was lift’
2.
The war it came o’ quickly
Now the elf-kind set their sails
Of sun-beams were their vessels
Moon-blood their elven-keels
Golden were their cuirass’
Golden their blades so keen
Golden ‘s their commander
Their lord with eyes so green
How their fire did dance-o
Like stars that came to earth
How our younglings did cry
Dragged ‘way from our hearth
The palace burnt and broken
The tower lay in waste
The elven-folk of the Isles
Loot’our gold in haste
3.
In winter chills we suffered
As the elves feast’ on our dead
Lo! Afar, afar a rider came
A crown upon his head
With three horns and a banner
The tides of battle turn’
Ho! Our tower shone with glee
Upon our hope’s return
The elves they fought savagely
A path of doom they trod
Many a warrior’s bone did lay
Along the Red Ring Road
Yet our legions held on firmly
And none of them did yield
‘Last our emperor claimed the victory
A golden flame he wield’
4.
Our foes now cold and lifeless
In their blood of red did lie
Their golden limbs lay sundered
Among their bones of white
The elven-lord stood yonder
A shattered sword in hand
Twice he breathed his prayers
‘Fore he rose to meet his end
His eye a sun-lit crystal
His hair a swirling ray
Through flowing shades he flickered
Till Goldbrand bit his waist
They took him to the tower
Our emperor and his Blades
With elven-guts as bindings
They hung the elf in rage
5.
The sun blazed on his eyelids
The crows pecked at his wounds
Yet the lord of the high folks
Made not a single sound
Spring seeds all sprang into sun’s height
Twin moons both waned and waxed
Still those lashes fluttered
On the creature truly hexed
The watchman at the tower
One morn’ his eyes were drawn
To a rising gloom, gilded—
Gliding through the dawn
He hurried to the gallows
Yet at the sight he scold’
None of the elf did linger
But a thousand threads of gold