lin carter

• conan'a ithafen yazdigi siirin orjinali su sekildedir:
  
  the road was long and the road was hard,
  and the sky was cold and grey:
  the dead white moon was a frozen shard
  in the dim dawn of day:
  but thief and harlot, king and guard
  warrior, wizard, knave and bard
  rode with me all the way.
  
  the wind was sharp as a whetted knife
  as it blew from the wet salt seas;
  the storm wind stirred to a ghostly life
  the gaunt black skeletal trees:
  but i drank the foaming wine of life
  wine of plunder and lust and strife
  down to the bitter lees.
  
  a boy, from the savage north i came
  to cities of silk and sin.
  with torch and steel, in blood and flame,
  i won what a man may win:
  aye, gambled and won at the devil's game
  splendor and glory and glittering flame
  and mocked at death's skull-grin.
  
  and there were foemen to fight and slay
  and friends to love and trust:
  and crowns to conquer and toss away
  and lips to taste with lust:
  and songs to keep black nights at bay
  and wine to swill to the break of day
  what matter the end be dust?
  
  i've won my share of your gems and gold
  they crumble into clods:
  i've gorged on the best that life can hold:
  and the devil take the odds:
  the grave is deep and the night is cold
  the world's a skull-full of stinking mould
  and i laugh at your little gods!
  
  the lean road slunk through a blasted land
  where the earth was parched and black.
  but we were a merry, jesting band
  who asked no easier track:
  rogue and reaver and firebrand
  and life rode laughing at my right hand
  and death rode at my back.
  
  the road was dusty and harsh and long
  crom, but a man gets dry!
  i'm old and weary and death is strong
  but flesh was born to die:
  hai, gods! but it was a merry throng
  rode at my side with jest and song
  under an empty sky.
  
  i've heard fat, cunning priestlings tell
  how damned souls writhe and moan:
  that paradise they can buy and sell
  for gold and gold alone:
  to the flames with scripture and priest as well
  i'll stride down the scarlet throat of hell
  and dice for the devil's throne!
  
  i faced life boldly and unafraid
  should i flinch as death draws near?
  life's but a game death and i have played
  many a wearisome year:
  hai! to the gallant friends i made
  slave and swordsman and lissome maid
  i begrudge no foot of the road i strayed
  the road which endeth here!