While fencing, fighting now and then, In toil, by definition, There lived a man, an honest man, A knight by his position. He was not rich, he had few rights, His Fate would always sneer. But nonetheless, he was a knight Beyond reproach and fear. He understood his bliss this way: A tournament, his foe was slain, And he fulfilled his duty. He played this fate-defying game In honor of his noble dame, The one and only beauty! But there were wars to come, and quests - From Fate there’s no escaping! And with the rose pinned to his chest, The knight began campaigning. For one and only he would yearn, Their parting made it harder. For her alone his heart would burn Beneath the iron armor. Under the sun, in bloodstained clothes, He plunged his sword into the souls Of foreigners and strangers. When other hearts were pierced, not his, The knight began to see his bliss, His happiness in dangers.
© Kirill Tolmachev. Translation, 2024