ROMANCE Bashny.Net

Tim Skorenko



No shields, no visor and down the red mantle,
Old king waiting for the last of the procession...
And once he remembers was in his life romance:
He's like a little boy, ran plump princesses,

Only the objectives pursued it is absolutely not for children
And fifty bastards to be left to the different provinces,
From malmö got to the fun South of Venice
And old age the country is divided between the young princes.

For the beautiful lady he was in a fight once with dragons,
Or rather, with one, small and somehow lost,
A lovely lady he made his wife legitimate
And at home it was terrifying bitch.

And in the bloody battle at times he drove his army.
Win sometimes; and sometimes defeats,
But in the battle differed iron, the Spartan calm
Taking the umpteenth time decision.

And the actual fact of living is quite less
And the crown, and the throne would the king without a twinge
For just one, but a lovely, loyal woman,
He loved her, he wrote her a poem.

And bastards, dragons, a wife and a purple robe
Tired of vision so that... it's vision...
...Because it would be the penultimate in the world romantic,
And the last romantic, — I must, unfortunately.

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