Have you ever wondered what's on the pages of Jaskier's book that we briefly see inS4E1? Here's what it says, but some words were really hard to read, so no guarantee that everything is 100% correct.
In the tavern’s warm embrace, tales unfurl, of love, of loss, of the wandering world. With quill in hand and melodies bright, I weave stories of joy and of plight.
Through valleys deep and mountains high, I journey on, ‘neath the endless sky. In search of inspiration, a gentle kiss, to capture moments of bliss. Oh, the world is vast, a tapestry grand, with wonders aplenty in every land.
From the whispering woods to the bustling town, each corner hides a treasure to be found. I’ve danced with kings and beggars alike, shared laughter and tears, in the moon’s soft light.
For life is a song, ever-changing, ever new, and I am but a troubadour, singing it true. From the fields of gold to the ocean’s roar, I wander freely, forevermore.
With verses flowing like rivers of rhyme, I paint pictures of a simpler time. In every face, a story lies, of triumphs bold and tearful goodbyes. I listen closely to each whispered word, for in them, the sweetest melodies are heard.
Oh, to be a bard, with heart unbound, to roam the world, with purpose found. To sing of love’s sweet ecstasy, and the bonds that bind us, eternally free.
So raise a glass to the troubadour’s art, to the magic of music that stirs the heart. For in every chord, in every line, lies the cadence of life, so divine. And though the … (here the sentence does not continue)
Upon the beach, where shadows weep, Geralt of Rivia lies in wounded sleep. His silver sword, ever gleaming bright, now shattered, broken in the moon’s soft light.
The waves, like mourners, softly cry. As they whisper tales of heroes’ sigh. Geralt, with his wounds deep and raw. Lies battered, bruised, by fate’s cruel claw.
Shadow Hunter
In forests deep, where shadows creep, Geralt hunts beasts that make men weep. With silver blade and iron will, he faces creatures, fearsome still. Against the werewolf’s savage snarl, he stands unbowed though dangers gnarl. With moonlit eyes and feral grace it meets its end in his embrace. Beneath the waves where horrors lurk, he battles sirens cold and murk. With mermaid’s song and deadly charm. They meet their fate in his strong arm. In caverns dark, where trolls reside, he faces giants, fearsome-eyed. With club in hand and thunderous roar, he brings them down forevermore. Through haunted ruins, where spectres wail, he banishes ghosts with iron nail. In lands afar, where dragons soar, he confronts them all and aches for more. With scales of steel and dragon’s breath, he triumphs over certain death. Geralt stands strong beneath the skies.
