Attention - a POEM! Stay away... Just joking. Do take a look 
Hello @ll
A few words of explanation: I finished the game, and got the Empress ending. To me, the last scene was so heart-breaking that I just had to express myself, to stay in this wonderful, magical world for a while longer... Cried like a baby, to be honest. So, I wrote this elegy, for the departure of Ciri, which describes its aftermath for Geralt.
Opinions are most welcome, but I have this request, very important to me: As this is my own translation of the original poem (I'm Polish), it may contain some errors. Maybe not glaring ones, but if anything "jars" and any of you (native speakers of English preferably) decides that one word should be replaced with another, that something is expressed clumsily - DO let me know. I want it to look as if it were written by a native. I want it to be "pure English", so to speak. And I want to make at least a few readers happy, of course.
To moderators: if anything above is a spoiler by your standards, feel free to hide it.
Enjoy:
In dark night, seated by campfire,
A weary traveller set up camp
That's how he wanted to see dawn;
His face said all – a wayworn tramp.
His horse unsaddled, grazing near,
Armour aside, and his sword parked,
Jerkin undone, at woods he's looking,
If someone's lurking in the dark.
His hair grey, though his face still young
Victuals and wine pulled from his sack,
Today first breathing spell for him,
And on that evening – his first snack.
Writing utensils he got hold of,
Worried expression his face filled,
Easy to tell his hand was fit
More for a sword than for a quill.
"Your Majesty," – that's how he started.
"Beg to inform my health's alright
I don't know where I am; near Velen.
We're having a new moon tonight.
War's over, and the land is peaceful;
Neighbours still quarell the old way,
Over their land, or over nothing…
Sometimes to monsters they fall prey.
So jobs abound, I mustn't grumble;
Peasants more money have, and food.
A foglet contract I have 'morrow
Down by the seaside; the pay's good.
From Yen I don't hear very often;
Lives with some mage, to me it's clear.
Complains they're not well-off enough;
She says that living's become dear.
Poor Dandellion passed away;
Since last spring he's not been around.
A married lady he seduced –
Her husband put him in the ground.
I hear your State is facing changes;
Your merchants want their taxes low.
Here, I'm no expert, can't advise;
Protect your people from thieves, though.
Sometimes the old days I recall,
On pendulum with sword you'd slew.
Kaer Mohren it was, witchers watching;
It was your life – 'tleast that's my view.
But what am I, a simpleton, judging?
Married the Path, now she's my wife.
Good though that you could try at least;
Who didn't try it – missed a life.
That's all. I thought you'd like to know.
Some perished, others suffered merely.
Signed beneath, your faithful servant,
Geralt of Rivia. Yours sincerely."
He sighed, scattered some sand on paper,
Who cares – a rogue, with his life messed.
I'll send the letter, and no-one'll know
That heart was ripped off from my chest.
Hello @ll
A few words of explanation: I finished the game, and got the Empress ending. To me, the last scene was so heart-breaking that I just had to express myself, to stay in this wonderful, magical world for a while longer... Cried like a baby, to be honest. So, I wrote this elegy, for the departure of Ciri, which describes its aftermath for Geralt.
Opinions are most welcome, but I have this request, very important to me: As this is my own translation of the original poem (I'm Polish), it may contain some errors. Maybe not glaring ones, but if anything "jars" and any of you (native speakers of English preferably) decides that one word should be replaced with another, that something is expressed clumsily - DO let me know. I want it to look as if it were written by a native. I want it to be "pure English", so to speak. And I want to make at least a few readers happy, of course.
To moderators: if anything above is a spoiler by your standards, feel free to hide it.
Enjoy:
In dark night, seated by campfire,
A weary traveller set up camp
That's how he wanted to see dawn;
His face said all – a wayworn tramp.
His horse unsaddled, grazing near,
Armour aside, and his sword parked,
Jerkin undone, at woods he's looking,
If someone's lurking in the dark.
His hair grey, though his face still young
Victuals and wine pulled from his sack,
Today first breathing spell for him,
And on that evening – his first snack.
Writing utensils he got hold of,
Worried expression his face filled,
Easy to tell his hand was fit
More for a sword than for a quill.
"Your Majesty," – that's how he started.
"Beg to inform my health's alright
I don't know where I am; near Velen.
We're having a new moon tonight.
War's over, and the land is peaceful;
Neighbours still quarell the old way,
Over their land, or over nothing…
Sometimes to monsters they fall prey.
So jobs abound, I mustn't grumble;
Peasants more money have, and food.
A foglet contract I have 'morrow
Down by the seaside; the pay's good.
From Yen I don't hear very often;
Lives with some mage, to me it's clear.
Complains they're not well-off enough;
She says that living's become dear.
Poor Dandellion passed away;
Since last spring he's not been around.
A married lady he seduced –
Her husband put him in the ground.
I hear your State is facing changes;
Your merchants want their taxes low.
Here, I'm no expert, can't advise;
Protect your people from thieves, though.
Sometimes the old days I recall,
On pendulum with sword you'd slew.
Kaer Mohren it was, witchers watching;
It was your life – 'tleast that's my view.
But what am I, a simpleton, judging?
Married the Path, now she's my wife.
Good though that you could try at least;
Who didn't try it – missed a life.
That's all. I thought you'd like to know.
Some perished, others suffered merely.
Signed beneath, your faithful servant,
Geralt of Rivia. Yours sincerely."
He sighed, scattered some sand on paper,
Who cares – a rogue, with his life messed.
I'll send the letter, and no-one'll know
That heart was ripped off from my chest.
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