I can see myself in the firelight, the Old Crone begged for a tale,
Hunting for a brand new plot that simply cannot fail.
The firelight flickers on the faces of the little girls and boys;
They sit and listen to me with scarcely a breath or noise.
I've sat like this many evenings for that's what Old Crones do,
But I'm running out of material. I'm looking for something new.
I'm the only entertainment 2000 years BC;
I suddenly get inspiration! An idea comes to me!
I'll invent a curious creature , half animal, half man,
Something no-one else has thought of ever since time began!
I consider a half-fish firstly but that idea doesn't gel
So I then consider a half-snake but what tale could I tell?
I consider the computations; you see some of them below,
But suddenly I feel inspired and I shout out 'I know!
A horse is strong and willing, whoever holds the reins,
And human-beings, as we all know, have huge remarkable brains!
Join the two and we will have a wise and powerful creature
Combining the best of everything, with every perfect feature!'
And so the children sit and gape at the exploits I invent,
And that is how our story-telling evenings then are spent.
But when the children have gone to bed, just for a good diversion
I tell the tales a second time, but I make-up an adult version!
I hear my stories are still told, down through the endless ages,
Centaurs feature in cinema and on the written pages.
I am the unknown creator of the Centaur myths of old.
Without my flickering firelight they'd none of them be told.
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