Falada's Head

If the princess had not made a vow of silence, the waiting maid would have killed her on the spot. But Falada saw all that happened and took good note.
After you've been to the knackers,
there isn't much you don't know…
But always I pursued wisdom:
I thought of life as thinking time.
Who better to understand that
flesh is grass, time straw in the wind?
Speech, too, I possessed — with some constraints:
I must choose my moment, get straight to
the point, yet speak in poetry…
At the story's white heat, I played
the dumb beast. Still fearing my tongue,
the false queen had me dismembered.
Even then, I stayed mute.
Only now, my head nailed to this
gateway between fields and town,
can I fulfil my gift, my trust.
As my heart lies unburied somewhere,
I must speak from the feeling mind:
Oh poor princess in despair…
If your mother knew,
her heart would break in two!
So I echo the drops of blood…
My words are clues planted in air,
seeds to break the spell of silence.