Food Poems

Chapter 251: Poetry Winner, Honey Wine Blessing

The god of light, in charge of light, medicine, music, and poetry. He possesses superb archery skills and outstanding talents, and is elegant and handsome. He is the most beloved among the gods.

According to legend, the God of Light is the prophesied king of gods who will eventually lead the world to eternal light.

However, after he was murdered by the God of Darkness, the world was engulfed in an endless winter, glaciers swept across the atrium, and everything was eventually burned in a raging fire. This raging fire eventually led to the birth of a new era.

The Goddess of Youth was once a subordinate deity of the God of Light. In today's new era, she has inherited the authority of "poetry" and spreads inspiration, art, and talent to the bards in the world.

Therefore, in this poetry festival watched over by the goddess of youth, the traditions of the old era were still retained, and many details were similar to the poetry meetings held to worship the god of light: laurel wreaths, playing of harps, and recitation on stage.

Under the spotlight of the crowd, a tall young poet holding a harp was the first to walk onto the stage, immediately causing suppressed exclamations and discussions.

Less than a moment after the exam questions were announced, Yeats had already taken the stage, and his talent truly amazed everyone.

"Improvisation, Baron Yeats has already completed it?"

“The extraordinary inspiration of the artistic gods is evident.”

"But how can he, who was the first to go on stage, possibly surpass the carefully thought-out works of others?"

"The later you enter the game, the longer you have time to think, the greater the advantage you will have!"

Amid the whispers in the meeting hall, the blind priestess bowed gracefully and respectfully with her hands in front of her as Ye Zhi came towards her. Her voice was ethereal and pleasant, and she said:
“I look forward to your poetry and performance.”

Yeats held the lute in his hand and nodded slightly.

The poetry test consists of three parts: performance, recitation, and creation, corresponding to music, singing, and poetry.

For Yeats, who was chosen by the art gods, performing was naturally not a problem. The key was to see which poem to copy that was related to the exam topic "Soul".

In fact, the gap in recitation can be made up by accompaniment. When choosing the accompaniment instrument, Yeats hesitated between the pan flute and the lute, and finally chose the latter.

The lyre, also known as the seven-stringed lyre, is a plucked string instrument and is said to be a sacred object of the god of light.

The God of Light once competed with the God of Faun in musical performance, with the two using the lyre and panpipe as instruments respectively. In the end, the God of Light won. The lyre and panpipe are therefore regarded as symbols of the two gods.

Standing on the stage, Yeats looked across the crowded venue and saw many familiar faces.

This poetry festival was considered the top event in the Golden Lion Kingdom. All the participants were high-ranking officials and dignitaries, and petty nobles were not even qualified to enter and watch.

Five of the six ducal families sent representatives to attend, but the Duke of Alba was still absent - in the eyes of devout believers of the Holy Light, belief in the gods is a complete heresy that should be banned.

"Given the Duke of Alba's temper, it is almost impossible for him to cooperate with the blood clan. The possibility that he is the Blood Spider Duke is very small."

Yeats glanced at the elegant and charming black-haired lady hidden under a parasol. Mrs. Lee Matilda's eyes were upturned with expectation in her eyes and a faint smile at the corners of her lips.

'The Duke of Suffolk, who was infected with leprosy, only had his wife present, and his whereabouts were unknown... Wouldn't it be easiest to clear a leper wearing an iron mask?'

Yeats pondered to himself.

'Crane is a professional detective. According to his plan, he must attend the Duchess's dinner tonight to investigate. He can only be invited if he performs well in this poetry reading.'

Thinking of this, Yeats calmed his mind and focused on the lyre in his hand, his slender fingers gently brushing the strings.

Suddenly, a pleasant and melodious rest song, accompanied by soft fluctuations of mana, lingered in the venue like a breeze.

When a poet chooses a piece of music to play, he usually chooses a music spell that matches the style of the poem. For example, if it is a heroic poem, he would choose the "Inspiring Song" spell.

As the God of Music, Yeats's attainments in musical magic are impeccable, and his performance of "Recess" has reached perfection.

All of those present were outstanding bards, and one could judge a bard’s skill simply by the music they played.

At this moment, listening to the music played by Yeats, many contestants showed a look of shame on their faces.

Dean Richard said in the crowd, "Baron Yeats's performance is so good that even high-level poets cannot match him. This is the advantage of being chosen by the gods of art."

Even the proud elf poet Perron could not help but agree with the dean's statement and nodded, "I really can't compare with him in music performance. I can only rely on having more time and working hard on poetry."

As a five-ring poet, Riorgo could see that Yeats had already reached a high level as a poet. Considering his age, this achievement was truly amazing!
Rilgaud, with his white beard curled up like a wise man, had a gleam in his eyes and a hint of surprise in his tone as he murmured:
"How can I hear the meaning of the shepherd in this song... Is this my illusion?"

Upon hearing this, Dean Richard opened his eyes wide.

The God of Shepherds and the God of Light are the two most outstanding music gods in the old era.

Mr. Riorgo praised Yeats’s performance as having a faunistic flavor, which is undoubtedly a high compliment!

Even the restless atmosphere in the conference hall gradually calmed down in this melodious music, and everyone's thoughts seemed to follow Yeats's music and be in a midsummer afternoon.

Surrounded by flowers and scented with laurel, a handsome young man like the god of light stood tall on the stage, with a voice as sweet as a nightingale, and said slowly:
"The title of the poem is, 'Seven Times I Have Despised My Soul.'"

The poem originated from the modern poet Gibran, who, along with Lu Xun and Tagore, is known as one of the three great writers in modern Eastern history.

The poem Yeats copied comes from Gibran's collection of poems, Sand and Foam, which exposes the common weaknesses of human nature and calls on people to cleanse their souls and pursue a higher realm.

After the words were spoken, many viewers showed confusion on their faces.

Poets have always praised the soul, which is the foundation of extraordinary power. Wouldn't a work that despises it be suspected of being off topic?
However, some poets showed thoughtful expressions on their faces... Poetry needs innovation, and it must be shocking. Baron Yeats obviously used the method of contrast, and I couldn't help but continue listening with curiosity.

Accompanied by the music played by the lute, Yeats sang in a gentle voice with the help of the "nightingale voice".

"The first time was when I saw that she was being humble when she could have been aggressive."

"The second time was when I saw her limping past the cripple."

Everyone was stunned. Humility has always been a virtue advocated by knights. Why did Baron Yeats suddenly sing a different tune?
Richard couldn't help but look at Riorgo, who was stroking his beard, his eyes twinkling, and muttering, "Pretending to be humble is not humility, but hypocrisy and arrogance."

Yeats continued:
"The third time was when she chose the easy option between the difficult one."

"The fourth time was when she made a mistake and consoled herself by thinking that others also make mistakes."

The meeting place had fallen silent. Everyone was listening carefully, with thoughtful expressions on their faces.

'It is always easier to take the easy way, but the soul keeps moving forward through the difficulties and hardships.'

Rilgaud's eyes moved slightly, and he thought:

"And using other people's mistakes to comfort yourself... is the biggest mistake."

Yeats said:
"The fifth time was when she gave in out of weakness, but still claimed to be strong." "The sixth time was when she despised an ugly face, not knowing that it was just one of her masks."

"The seventh time was when she sang hymns and called it a virtue."

The psalm came to an end, the music was drawing to a close, and the entire venue fell into silence.

This is no longer a simple narrative poem, but is mainly lyrical, and the feelings it evokes vary from person to person.

On the second-floor terrace, June seemed to be thinking about something, and after a while she sighed softly:
"I really don't know how this guy, at such a young age, can have such a profound level of thinking!"

Elsa had already excerpted this poem from the manual and was reading it carefully in her hands. She seemed unable to let it go, with an infatuated smile on her face.

"Do you understand?" June expressed doubt.

"I don't understand it, but it's very meaningful!" Elsa said with a smile.

June smiled helplessly and said, "You have made significant progress in being able to read the artistic conception."

Under the parasol, the Duchess's beautiful eyes gleamed slightly. She waved for the butler to come over and whispered in his ear.

Perron frowned and said bluntly: "I don't like this poem. It seems to have no plot. It's just expressing opinions?"

"To be precise, it is the introspection of the soul. Only through introspection can the soul reach a higher realm." Rilgaud said with emotion, "In my opinion, this is a masterpiece that will be passed down to future generations!"

"Perhaps you are not satisfied because this poem does not sing the praises of love." Dean Richard taught earnestly, "Love is not all of poetry, and the soul is not made up of love."

Perron said righteously: "Love is everything in my soul!"

Liergo smiled silently, then looked at the young poet on the stage, his eyes full of admiration, and said bluntly:
"This is a masterpiece that can be savored over and over again. It is impossible for me to surpass his poem in such a short time!"

Perron was stunned.

He claimed that his skills were not as good as Riorgo's, but even Riorgo gave such an evaluation... Is Yeats going to win again this time?
Dean Richard smiled bitterly and said, "This is not just throwing out a brick to attract jade, this is directly throwing out the imperial seal!"

a long time.

When the poets on the scene figured out the meaning of this poem, their eyes lit up.

The contestants' faces showed either surprise, respect, or disappointment.

"He really didn't prepare this in advance? The level of completion is too high!"

"The first one raised the tone, how can the rest of the competition be held?"

"You guys go ahead, I'm giving up... I'll never be able to write a poem like this in my lifetime, let alone improvise it!"

Calvin's eyes had changed when he looked at Yeats.

I have heard rumors that Baron Yeats is the chosen one of art, but that day, I saw with my own eyes that he suppressed the vampire marquis who was as strong as five rings!
Now, he has such amazing performance in poetry... Calvin suspected that the so-called artistic choice was just a cover, that he was both civil and military and was good at swordsmanship and bows and arrows -

Yeats is clearly connected to the God of Light!
"Seven times I have despised my own soul..." The blind priestess Hebe stood beside the statue of the goddess of art, muttering the poem just now.

As a priest of the Temple of Youth, Hebe had seen countless bards come to the temple to present poems to the goddess, and had a keen insight into poetry.

This poem is in no way inferior to the previous masterpieces of the Chosen One by God. It can even be said to be his improvisation, and its evaluation is even higher!
The corners of Heber's mouth curled up slightly under his silver eye shield, and with Yeats's soft voice and moving music still lingering in his ears, he said:

"Please invite the next reader to the stage."

The contestants looked at each other in bewilderment. With Baron Yeats's performance as an example, no one wanted to be the second to go on stage.

Not afraid of not knowing the goods, but afraid of comparing goods.

Even though those present were all leading figures in the Golden Lion literary world, their prepared speeches were completely eclipsed by those of Baron Yeats.

Who dares to go on stage second?
The atmosphere in the meeting hall was a little weird. Dean Richard saw this and sighed.

“I still made a mistake.”

"What's wrong?" Perron asked curiously.

Richard smiled bitterly and said, "What Yeats threw was indeed a brick, which killed the game directly!"

Finally, it was Perun who came on stage, striding with pride, playing his lyre and reciting.

To be fair, Perron's language is gorgeous and romantic, but compared with Yeats's profound poems, it falls into vulgarity.

After he finished his recitation, applause broke out again, but it seemed sparse compared to just now.

However, Perron's appearance also eased the embarrassment of the poets. The contestants took the stage one by one, and there were many famous works among them. Riorgo's "My Soul is Deep as a River" was the most outstanding, but there was still a huge gap compared to Yeats, who was the first to appear.

In the evening, as the sun sets, the fiery red sunset glows on the Thames, casting a golden glow on the statue of the goddess of youth on the riverside.

When the last contestant walked off the stage, a beautiful blue light like the aurora seemed to be floating above the statue!
The youthful divinity in the realm of creation suddenly became extremely active. Even the low-level poets could sense it and cast glances of shock and awe at the statue.

However, I saw that this ball of green light gradually rose and flew back and forth in the venue.

Everyone swallowed nervously and looked up at the divinity.

Blessing from the goddess of youth!
Whoever can obtain this blessing will win the crown of this poetry festival!

Without any suspense, the green light, like a butterfly, landed on the open palm of the handsome young man, and then slowly sank into Ye Zhi's palm.

"Congratulations, Yeats." Riergo was the first to applaud and said with a smile, "You are indeed qualified to receive the blessing of the goddess of art!"

Suddenly, there was extremely warm applause at the scene, and even the nobles outside the venue could not help but look at Yeats with respect.

Yeats's authenticity as an artistic God-chosen one needs no further proof!
slam-la-

Amidst the tide of cheers and applause, Yeats looked at the new blessing on the panel and felt excited.

[Blessing·Poetic Honey Wine: You must use an ox horn cup as a spellcasting container. The ox horn cup will gradually overflow with sweet poetic honey wine. The honey wine has a mellow taste. After drinking it, the bard can enter the "inspiration" state, and the effects of inspiration-related spells will be greatly improved. ]

Ye Zhi's eyes lit up.

Cooking wine is here!

(End of this chapter)