Bertram states that this poem was written by him in a past life as a 14th century monk in France under the name Fr. Bertrand Gilles de Crist. Originally titled L’guêpe’, La veuve noir, La papillon et La Corneille. It is printed here unabridged and fully translated by Mr. Gilchrist, himself.
A wasp there was, both solitary and regretful
That in both love and life, to his passions had been forgetful
So in search of the former, he left his quiet den
Guided by an instinct that burdens both wasps and men
And after midway through his journey, came upon a lavish silken web
Surely, thought the wasp, a lovely creature calls this her bed
Calling out a greeting, a polite and cheerful “tally-ho!”
Taken aback by she who answered, a dark and seductive black widow
She beckoned him come closer and to lay upon the dewy strands
The intricate kaleidoscope which was woven by her hands
They locked into each other’s arms and made love for quite a spell
But, when asked if she would be his mate, the widow would not tell
Instead, she sang a song to him, a quiet lullaby
As he laid his head upon her breast and closed his eyes with just a sigh
But the wasp awakened in a panic when he felt the widow’s poisoned bite
He broke free of her clutches and flew out into the night
And looking back, he waved adieu to the widow on the silk
Knowing she had only done just what’s expected of her ilk
And so on he flew to continue with his earthly quest
Both alive and wiser and, yet, still hoping for the best
Attracted by its fragrance, he beheld a field of flowers
And a brightly colored maiden, therein, passing daylight’s hours
Startled and bewildered by his swiftly seized approach
She was repulsed by this creature that in her Eden had encroached
She hastily flew and out from the garden she raced
But the wasp, undeterred, gave a valiant and love-bitten chase
She flew so fast and paid no mind to which way she went
And she noticed too late that into the mouth of a toad she’d been sent
Thinking she’d breathed her last breath on this life-giving earth
She suddenly saw light as the toad’s mouth opened and gave her a rebirth
Why, she thought, have I from death’s mouth been suddenly flung
She turned to look and saw that, by the wasp, the toad’s eye had been stung
Then, as if a veil was drawn away, she saw the wasp with brand new eyes
Such a handsome being, how, she thought, was I before not mesmerized
Enamored at once, she flew with him back to her garden
Bidding the wasp forgive her hasty retreat and grant her a full lover’s pardon
At that, they swore never to part and the two became only but one
Their love intertwined like a rich tapestry and their new day had only begun
When one day after time spent within ardor’s splendid garden of wealth
The wasp decided it was finally time to reveal to his love his true self
In her presence he shed his false skin and showed his true colors and wings
He was not a real wasp but also a butterfly, a perfect a match, so he thinks
But the maiden she cried upon seeing his beautiful guise
And the butterfly wasp was no comfort at all, nor could he dry tears from her eyes
For what she had to say all but broke the poor wasp’s heart
She could not love another like herself, so soft, and their ways they had to part
But, he argued that he’d proven his love, his honor and his bravery
Still the maiden would not hear it, and could not love one more fair than she
Broken, the butterfly once again donned his wasp regalia
And flew away from the fragrant scents of rose and lilac and azalea
Into the dark he retreated and in the wild lost his tracks
Until he spied the open web of the same seductive widow black
His journey proven fruitless to end his life of leisure
He decided to end it, nevertheless, within the throes of pleasure
And back into the arms he went of the temptress in the strands
Sworn to never fly again but die by her poisoned fangs
Meanwhile, back in the garden the maiden spies a shadow in the lea
And gets in closer for a look at the beautiful and new mystery
Pierced by a black darker than she’s ever seen
Put in a trance or something like a waking dream
A voice emerged from the shadow like a sirens call
And too late she realized that it was no dream at all
Before awe could turn to fear, the shadow began to move and grow
In an instant she was faced with what was once a shadow but now a crow
The black one’s smile was as wicked as the devil on his throne
The butterfly stood no chance in this garden all alone
With a snap and a clap, the crow had the maiden in his beak
And the maiden had but a second to cry out a desperate shriek
Through the blackened forest where the light eternally disappears
Went the scream of the troubled maiden into the wasps now-dying ears
Startled into waking from a poison nightmare state
The wasp knew that he must break free before it was too late
With all his dying strength summoned up into his wings
He broke free and swiftly delivered to the widow a death sting
Racing to the sound of the maidens fearful cries
With poison in his veins and tears running down his eyes
The wasp landed on the bird and plunged his deadly lance
Into the crow before the crow had any chance
The bird spat the butterfly and went into a flail
As the wasp injected venom and fought him tooth and nail
Though getting weaker and weaker, the wasp would not stop the attack
Just to save the dear life of his only beloved without ever looking back
Then with a crash, the crow’s lifeless wings hit the ground
His beak opened up but he uttered not one single sound
The butterfly wasp dragged himself to his love and made sure she had come to no harm
Before giving his breath, his final on earth, and dying in her gentle arms
And the butterfly maiden lay crying alone in her garden among all the flowers
On a stone that became the wasp’s very tombstone and where she spends now most of her hours.
Lyrical Ballads 