trobaire.org

a collection of literature from poets, bards, songwriters, and skalds in the SCA

My Name Is Bernardo Carpaccio

Poem (Canso): 

My name is Bernardo Carpaccio. A most lucky person am I.
Good fortune has followed my every move and will til the day that I die.
I was born to a Genoese family in the year thirteen-twenty and two
And I led a most idyllic childhood- as northern Italians do.

I was sent to an outpost named Caffa when I was but twenty and three
A fortified trading encampment that sat there beside the Black sea.
Now, a previous Khan who was friendly had granted Italians the right
To settle a post there for trading, and Caffa, you see, was the site.

But the new Khan, named Kipchak Khan Janibek had decided the right to refuse-
He said, “You will all now leave Caffa- On foot, or in coffins, you choose!”
Of course, we refused- we’re Italians! We thumbed our noses most haughty
And readied our swords and our arrows- and nibbled a little biscotti.

The siege was a long, drawn out conflict- it lasted for over ten seasons
‘til the men who had started the battle no longer remembered the reasons.
A few times a year they would gather- and launch an impressive advance
But we were Italians; they Mongols. And so they did not stand a chance.

By the year thirteen twenty and six the horde thought the siege too much trouble
Their men were all dead now or dying- they wanted to leave on the double
The Black Death had settled among them- the whole army now was bubonic
(Their lymph nodes were black and inflamed- a sickness considered most chronic)

So many were dead now or dying (or else just now showing with spotties)
there weren’t enough living to bury the dead- so what then to do with the bodies?
Well, the khan he looked up at the catapults and then he looked down at the dead
And then, once again, at the catapults- and this is what Janibek said;

“For 36 months we have battled with Caffa and could not defeat them-
It’s time for us to go home now- but first, let’s send kinsmen to meet them!
The catapults started to fire- and up looked our archers and swordsmen
And saw that despite not a cloud in the sky- it was raining Mongolian hordesmen!

The bodies were flying and bloated- and on landing would often explode
Leaving tissues and organs and mongol mcnuggets all over the buildings and road.
Corporal Palzo looked up in the air and was instantly frozen with dread
As too late to duck, he was knocked on his rear by a literal boot to the head.

Luigi the merchant got lung on his shoe; Guido got spleen in his eye
Vincenzo got bits of intestinal goo all over his new gucchi tie.
The rain of the festering mongol dead was, needless to say quite surprising
All of the city was screaming in fear; and much of a stench it was rising.

But soon enough mongols had run out of dead and turned on the heels and retreated
And though we were soaked in mongolian beef, at least we had not been defeated.
And I myself was unscathed, unbloodied and also unspattered
Somehow I had managed to dodge all the bodies; despite how the city was battered

For my name is Bernardo Carpaccio. A most lucky person am I.
Good fortune has followed my every move and will til the day that I die.
After some serious mopping a great celebration was started
We toasted our much deserved triumph and mourned the dearly departed

A week or so passed- it was peaceful. How could we poor Genoese know?
That under the arms of our people black lumps were beginning to show.
In a month, half the town was infected- the streets were a river of pus
And the screams of the dead and the dying were causing a bit of a fuss.

You may ask, my good friend, of my fortune- I was, glad to say quite plague free
For I am a noble Italian- the plague would not dare to touch me!
Yes, my name is Bernardo Carpaccio. A most lucky person am I.
Good fortune has followed my every move and will til the day that I die.

With most of the city in ruin, good parties were scarce to be found
So I hitched a long ride with a merchant who was heading towards my home town.
We traveled along in good comfort- and saw not a sign of disease.
Though it’s true that the journey was itchy- it seems that we brought along fleas.

And now I stand here, right before you- my horrible tale to relate
I am sad for the dead and the dying but glad not to share in their fate.
I hope you fare well from my story- my friends, may it keep you from harm
Good day to you people and farewell- (Hey, what’s this black spot on my arm?)

Yes, my name is Bernardo Carpaccio. A most lucky person am I.
Good fortune has followed my every move and will til the day that I . . . . argh!