If someone is roving after your unruly head to swoop And to make your thin neck thinner with the help of rope loop, There is no another shelter, hide yourself in forest, if You are sold for less than penny with your bowels and stiff. Tramps, despising life of servant, runaways from bloody nets And the homeless, the paupers, who have nothing exept debts, All exhausted, all rejected, they do run in this free wood. Reason is that master here - Lad of Glory Robin Hood! They see with half a word here, they donít fear sharp wordsí traps, They assume with honor here desperados-madcaps Knights do hide themselves in forests, waiting when their time will come, Who has no reproach and fear never wealthy man become They do know all deer paths as if the fingers of the hand In the past they were serfs, now all they are free marksmenís band. Here that, who lost belongings, will be saved and understood. He walks in the forest country - Lad of Glory Robin Hood! They do live in spite of all bans, they donít take the troubles in mind, They are outlows, freelancers, they donít lose but they do find. They do sleep on moss being covered by the celestial sphere Nevermind whatever cold is, they alive and luck is here! But they sigh being separated and deprived of plots and rights And caress trust-worthy bows to avoid unlucky fights. And there are no better marksmen! What tomorrow? Bad or good? He will say, the best of archers - Lad of Glory Robin Hood!
© Vladimir Kontrovsky. Translation, 2005