Confession of an Executioner

Татьяна АЛЬБРЕХТ | Поэзия

Confession of an Executioner

I am Hagen. My name sounds like a verdict.
When people hear it, they close their ears
They call me «traitor», «scoundrel» and I earned it
They call me «murderer» because of all their fears

Tell them they are wrong? They’ll laugh right in my face.
Or rather ridicule and mock me with a jeer.
They know very well my sin and my disgrace
But why am I like that? You don’t have an idea.
I don’t try to justify, don’t want you to forgive.
I won’t deny. I don’t want to defend me.
I’m all alone in silence with my grief
That you don’t even try to understand me

Yes, why forgive the one who is so deep in sin?
But I’m not sorry for that fatal blow
Don’t mind that verse you read about me
I’ll be more honest and I’ll tell you all I know
I will admit that it was my intent
And execution was so skilled and evil
But in response how will you place the blame? You can’t
To judge the past is easy but there’s no retrieval!

For you it’s simple — victim and the man who brings the death
Great hero and a rascal so disgraceful
The widow’s loud cry that made you deaf
The story you were blinded by that was so hateful
Thing’s aren’t the same when seen from so afar
And when you look from the exalted throne of years
The truth is not important. It’s a shooting star.
As an excuse for centuries to come, it’s gone fast as it appears

It’s two of us. He is a hero. So noble,
So fine, so brave, so very faithful
The darling of the public, role model
The other one so alien and baleful
He will not put his daring on display
He never looks for any kind of trouble
His stories aren’t adorned in any way
He doesn’t look for senseless fun and struggle

He is alone and he hates being flattered
He is too obstinate and solid as a rock
His enemies soon become dead and scattered
He won’t forgive. Away from him you will not walk.
So that’s the second one. Which one do you prefer?
Oh, that’s ridiculous. The answer is crystal clear.
Of course, the hero made of virtues, all in myrrh
The second one’s too complicated. I agree here.

I am no hero. I am just a vassal
That was so faithful to his king till his last breath
On my advice he built his royal castle
I take his sins and carry them till death
And trust me, for this I will settle
I won’t trade my life for something new
But to end it in a final battle
I just can’t but that’s what I would do

But don’t get me wrong. I never grumble.
I have drained that bitter cup of fate
I don’t need the judgment that they mumble
And for mercy from descendants I don’t wait
And I know exactly why I murdered
What I hated him so vehemently for
Mortal enemy, he was my deadly burden
I was sure of as never been before

Queen’s resentment? Oh, that was not required.
She only was a plausible excuse.
But the reason was his limitless desires
And his sword that he so masterfully used
He was so dangerous just like a savage beast
When he is fed he is sublime and soft
Don’t let him trick you. You will be his feast
If you get caught off guard he’ll eat your pigeon loft.

We could not be together on this earth
It was too narrow for the three of us, too small
And after death I am not coming forth
We will not meet there. We have different roles.
But you won’t understand. The time you live in
You see and think so differently now
It sounds too abstract for you when you hear «human»
For us a person means so much more somehow

No, I will not explain. Why bother?
So that you’ll understand and then forgive me?
I did not tell you all of this so you, like holy fathers
Would grant me absolution and relieve me.
No! Never! I stand firm in sin!
And I would murder him again with no hesitation!
You want to judge me? Please. There’s nothing for me in
Your earthly judgment. Pride is my foundation.

Without your help I’m punished by my fate
Its verdict is so limitlessly cruel
I witnessed with my eyes the senseless fade
Of royal kin of kings I served that for so many years ruled
A ridicule? A punishment? God only knows
And I submit myself to him. I should.
I said it all. But with the ending being so close.
There’s still some hope for me to be understood.

About the author:

Tatiana Albrekht, born on May 15 1981 in Moscow. She graduated from the Teachers’ Training College majoring in elementary education. Then she studied in the Historical Archival Institute of the Russian State University for The Humanities . She also finished The Theatre Science Department of the Russian Academy of Theatre Arts. She writes in different genres, such as poetry, novels, short forms and mostly historical essays.

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