Tuesday, January 23, 2024

THE ALBIGENSIAN CRUSADE

"Caedite eos. Novit enim Dominus qui sunt eius."


Always at the daunting beginning of something

you can see these hot-red formations

feel their new positions

close to the heart.


The Song of the Cathar Wars:

'bels chanz, mala crozada':

too many brains and jawbones

on blood-soaked fields.

Too many noble ladies thrown into the fire

or down a well.

Too many kitchenboys and mercenaries

entitled to pillage and rape,

too many meetings

with bishops and abbots and legates

that drag on forever!


And the many siege engines groaning

mangonels, cats and bitches;

to say nothing of the Weasel.


But it was fun to watch Simon de Montfort

coming unglued 

at the siege of Toulouse:

his speeches are increasingly insane

and so thick with flourishes that it's a mercy

when he is finally brained

by a little stone

launched from within.


That was a stone

right close to the heart.







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