The Selfish Giant

The Selfish Giant
Once upon a time before,
There exist a giant, upheave in lore.
Strong, powerful, and selfish,
He built himself a beautiful garden he calls his.
He declares: “No other creature may trespass! For I am the magna of this place.”
Ev’ry other creature trembles in fear, yet whispering, fearfully: “ What a pronk! His doom will befall”
However the giant himself does not hear their whispers; he merely goes away.
For days, months, he goes away ere break at larksong morning
And returns when night befalls and the nightingale singing.
But one day he returned to his home early
And laughter fills his ears.
He rushes to see what happened:
Children were playing, laughing, jumping.
O, how the sight of those pesky low-life scoundrels angered him!
With a grunt, he stormed into his garden, roaring,
“Out! Out! Scram! How dare you trespass!”
The children scattered like fearful birds,
Not to be seen again.
The giant, still fuming, nailed up a sign
Upon his garden pine:
Trespassers, Will be Prosecuted.
As said, he was a very selfish giant.
The sad, sad children had nowhere to play.
How they yearned for the beautiful Eden-palace
With blossoms and fruit and no malice!
They sometimes still looked at the garden from afar
But not willing to set foot in it.
“How happy we were there,” they said.
The caresses of Spring soon stroked everybody’s cheeks
Tinting them with a rosy, light shade,
Brightening even the dullest of maids.
All over the country flowers bloomed and birds sang.
Only in the giant’s garden were there no trace of Spring.
The birds never sung in it because there were no children who hear
And the trees’ blossoms shrivelled away and passed.
The only residents were Snow and Frost.
“Spring has forgotten this place,”
“Let us live here without haste!”
“I cannot understand why Spring is not here,”
The Selfish Giant said, sadly.
“I hope the weather will change!”
But Spring never came, nor the Summer.
Autumn blessed ev’ry place with golden fruits,
But to the giant’s garden she gave none.
“He is too selfish,” she thought.
And so, his trees also remained barren.
So Winter was always there
Now accompanied by North, Snow, Frost, Hail.
One lonely morning the giant was lying awake
When he heard some lovely music in the make.
It was really only a linnet singing outside
But it had been a long time
Ever since a bird had graced his garden with her vocals
So it seemed to him the most beautiful music on earth.
Winter and his alliances stopped
And the giant got up and hopped.
“I believe Spring is here at last!”
He jumped, fast, fast.
What did he see?
He saw a wonderful sight
Gracing his eyes without any mere might.
In every tree he could see a little child
Sitting, with the manners most mild.
The trees had their blossoms back
And the birds sang a healing melody
Blessing the pack.
The scene was lovely
But Winter still lingered in a corner
For there was a little boy
Sitting.
His tears streamed down his cheeks
And he cried, cried, cried.
He could not climb the tree.
The tree sighed. “Come on, boy, I am easy to climb for thee.”
The giant went out gently
But the other children were frightened
So they ran away, shocked.
Only the little sad boy did not run
For his eyes were full of tears so that he could not see the giant.
The giant picked him up gently, and put him in the tree.
The little boy smiled.
When the other children saw that the giant was no longer wicked,
They came back, faces with smiles.
Jumping into piles.
“The garden is yours now, children.”
The giant took his great axe
And knocked down his sign.
When evening drew near
The children came to say goodbye
“But where is your little friend?”
The giant asked, because he liked that little boy the most.
But the children did not know where he lived
And they hath never seen the child.
“How I would like to see him again,”
The giant thought.
Years flew
And the giant grew old and feeble
And walked with a weeble.
He was very kind to all the little children
But he wanted to meet again his first little friend.
One day he sat on his chair
Too weak for the childrens’ games.
He saw someone in the garden corner
And he could not believe it.
Under a tree in the corner
There was his first little friend!
The child was smiling, happy.
The giant smiled, too
And ran to pick him up
But he saw two scars
On his friend’s little hands
And little feet, circling them like bands.
“Who dare wound thee?!” He bellowed, voice loud and angry.
The child smiled, but weakly.
“Do not worry, for these are the scars of love.”
“You let me play in your garden, now I will take you to my garden.”
And so the giant joined hands
With his little angel friend
And he floated in the sky
Blissful, quiet.
With smiles and closed eyes,
They departed this dear life.