The Lay of Feasterbush and the Slaying of Veganismus

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Canto I: The Gathering at LudlowenstauserBergerstein

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Hark! Sing, O Muse, of ancient Feasterbush,

Where noble men do gather, drink, and push!

In LudlowenstauserBergerstein they stand,

The stoutest, bravest champions in the land.

No pale-faced maidens tread this holy ground,

Where only glorious Brotherhood is found!

Lo, bold Sir Rüdiger of fearless heart,

Sir Tomas, master of the boarish art,

And Sir Andreas, strong as ancient oak, In swine-hide capes and heavy velvet cloak!

Around them stand ten thousand hearty men,

Hugging and laughing in the piggish glen.

They slap their thighs with thunderous, lusty cheers,

And share deep embraces, shedding joyful tears,

With tender strokes and heavy petting gay,

As manly love doth blossom in the fray!

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Among the throng walk lords of high degree,

The noble blood of British history:

Bold Robert Dudley, Earl of Leicester grand,

And Walter Raleigh with a pint in hand; The Duke of Marlborough, Wellington beside,

And Lord Byron, swelling with heroic pride!

All pledge their troth unto the Sacred Sow,

And to the great Schweinekult humbly bow.

“Fraternitatem per Suilla!” all do cry,

Their banners lifted to the autumn sky!

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Canto II: The Feast of Wurstgott and the Garden Games

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Upon an altar forged of bronze and lard, The golden pig-god Wurstgott keeps his guard!

His glittering snout reflects the bonfire bright,

Where roasted hogs turn dripping through the night. Mountains of pork, sweet bacon, crisped rind,

And casks of finest ale of every kind!

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Then burst the Morris Dancers on the green,

With ribbons bright and bells of silver sheen! Yet sweet they seem not, for their sticks are steel,

Their deadly hanky-twirls make brave men reel!

With murderous grins they leap and slash the air, Leaving fell bloodshed in the garden fair!

Yet fear no danger! For the men rejoice,

Playing garden games with boisterous, merry voice.

They kick the leather ball—a football game!—

Passing the swine-skin in Saint Hubert's name.

And through the thickets hops a wondrous sight: A rabbit, Stephan, fluffy, quick, and white,

Who leaps upon a barrel, small and bold,

And yodels songs of ancient pigs of old!

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Canto III: The Dragon Veganismus and the Slaying

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Then from the dark abyss a shadow fell, A beast birthed from the coldest, greenest hell!

The foul dragon Veganismus did appear,

Whose breath withered pork and spoiled the beer! With scales of kale and claws of soy and seed,

It sought to end the noble porcine creed!

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"No lard shall pass!" the wicked serpent roared,

"No sausage juicy, and no porker scored!"

Full seven days the bloody battle raged,

Where man and beast in furious war engaged! For seven suns did brave Sir Tomas fight,

And Sir Andreas swung with all his might!

The ground ran red with ale and dragon gore,

As Veganismus hissed and snapped the more.

On the seventh day, when all seemed lost and dead, Sir Rüdiger stepped forth with lofty tread!

He raised high his mighty Schweineaxt on high,

Forged in lard-fire beneath a stormy sky!

With a mighty roar for Wurstgott’s holy name,

And Fraternitatem per Suilla’s flame,

He brought the Schweineaxt down upon the beast, Splitting its skull, and calling all to feast!

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Epilogue

 

The beast was slain!

The men did shout and sing,

Making the walls of Bergerstein to ring!

Dudley and Byron embraced in merry glee,

While Stephan yodelled over land and sea.

They ate the pork, they drank the golden ale,

And told forever of this epic tale.

So hail Sir Rüdiger! Hail the holy Swine!

Hail Feasterbush, where men and hogs combine!