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Title: The Wrestling-Match
Author: George Borrow [
More Titles by Borrow]
As one day I wandered lonely, in extreme distress of mind,
I a pleasant garden entered, hoping comfort there to find.
Up and down I paced the garden till an open space I spied,
There I saw a crowd of people, and I heard a voice that cried:
“Come and see what Love is doing, here is Love performing more
Wondrous feats than e’er were witnessed at Olympian games of yore:
This he conquers, that he conquers, young and old before him lie,
Great and small alike he conquers, none with him a fall must try.
Hearing this at once I entered ’midst the crowd collected there,
Some of whom no doubt were eager like myself to banish care.
I would fain behold this being, this same wondrous lad survey,
Who ’twas said in each encounter bore with ease the prize away.
Quickly I the crowd divided, soon I pierced the multitude,
And this Love stood full before me, and what think you ’twas I view’d?
Why a boy, a little darling, full of captivating grace,
Rather roguish were his glances, but how lovely was his face!
Soon as I beheld this warrior gibings I began to throw
At the wretches who had suffered fell defeat from such a foe.
Then, to me his visage turning, of the conquered standing by
One replied, and in replying tears he shed abundantly:
“O, poor youth,” ’twas thus he answered, “little, little dost thou know
That in coming here thou comest not to joy, but bitter woe.
Tears, and pains, and wounds most ghastly, wounds for which there is no cure,
Every kind of evil treatment such as no one can endure.”
When these words I heard him utter I was filled with bitter rage,
And forthwith made preparation with the warrior to engage.
“Hearken, Master Love,” I shouted, “from this spot stir not away,
You and I must have a battle, must engage in deadly fray;
That it may be known for certain which is strongest of us two.”
Then into the arena bounding there I stood in all men’s view,
In the midst of it expecting firm the onset of the foe,
Doubting not should he attack me him at once to overthrow.
Love he was not slow to follow with a blythe and joyous air,
Crying out, “My dearest fellow, for the fight yourself prepare!
Round the waist each other clasping now let’s strive like wrestlers true,
Do your best and I will show you what young Master Love can do.”
Then around the waist I clasped him, he his arms around me wound,
Long we hugged and hugged each other, each his match in t’other found.
Said at length the urchin to me: “Sadly tired, friend, am I,
Very much fatigued and weary, really friend just fit to die.
Therefore take from me, I prythee, what thou anxiously hast sought,
And for which in this arena with me gallantly hast fought.”
Then a blast of wild consuming fire he breathed into my breast,
Straight my breast it quick enkindled, all deprived was I of rest,
Then he ran away exulting to some other wretched wight,
Such a zest he has for conflict, in such fray is his delight.
As for me I fell half senseless on the fatal, fatal spot,
Fierce consuming fire within me, never sure was one so hot.
Rising up I followed shrieking, “Oh have mercy, Love, on me!
See my tears, my sad affliction, cure me of my misery!”
Then he cried, “Dost not remember all the boasts thy lips out-pour’d?
Know henceforth in every region Love is Conqueror and Lord.”
Thus he cried, and proudly left me, and wherever now I rove,
I reproach myself for thinking I could vanquish mighty Love.
[The end]
George Borrow's poem: The Wrestling-Match
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