An old castle is hidden and covered, and wrapped In a soft rug of green flush by time flow; Nonetheless, silent granite will loosen its tongue, And benumbed antecedents will start speaking up About cruises, and combats and triumphs. Time has never deleted these conquests. t only takes you to lift upper scales Or to drive the time into a corner, And youll see it give secrets away. Heaps of padlocks will pop, heaps of fetters will drop, Heaps of years will give off heaps of hells of a job, And the legends of dozens of verses will flow About sieges and jousts, and free shots of the old. May your ear be pricked for familiar runs, May your eye attend, figuring out, For the reason that love is eternally love Even there, in the future of ours. Steel sonorously cracked at the drive of a brand; Out of tautness, a bowstring got heated; Reaper hollowly curred on the end of a lance; Crying quarter, adversaries fell into mud, Giving in to the mercy of winners. Yet not all, who had managed to bear it, Did preserve their hearts for good will, Having finally fended off credit From a flagrant deceit of a heel. Very well, if your horse is responsive and fast If your hand has a competent grip of a lance; Very well, if you know of a bolt in advance, A lot worse, if it is on the sly, meanly twanged. What do you do with creeps? Batter them? Serves em right! Ever scared by covens of witches? Only isnt the evil called vile for all time, And so much as in your decent future? Unto ages of ages, for ever and more, Wimps and traitors are being despised, And a foe is a foe, and a war is a war, Whereas freedom is one, and a cell is too small, And, to freedom, we always aspire. Time has never deleted these notions, t only takes you to lift upper coat, Thereby venting eternal emotions By hot blood, gushing out of the throat. Unto ages of ages and ever, ol man, Both the price is a price, and the blame is a blame, And its certainly good if your honor is saved, If you do have your back safely watched by a friend. From the days of the old, we drag sagas and tales, From the old, borrow duty and virtue, Since the noble is noble, and thus shall remain In the past, in the present and future.
Vyacheslav Chetin. Translation, 2012