When I relax and play,
Where will I end, on what - not to guess?
But only one, probably, I know:
I will not want to die.
Set on a cast chain of honor
And the links of glory are too tough for me.
Hey! Whoís knocking on the oak gate
Knuckles on forged brackets?
There is no answer, but they stand there, I know
Who is not so scary chain dogs...
But here I notice over the hedge
The familiar sickle of a honed braid.
Iíll grind the silver collar,
And a golden chain overwhelmed.
Iíll jump over the fence, break into the burdock,
I will tear my sides, and run out into the thunderstorm.