with Gloom, my squire

I was the moony knight, the moony scion,
all golden thread, all iron,
with a Golden Snail inlaid in my arms.
My device, "Easy does it",
and below, the saw, "Quod licet".
My squire, Gloom, on my right,
ever loyal. And night
would follow with its nightingales.
The forest would endite
my lays.
Oh leaf, little leaf, what do you know
of my woe -
sing on, sing away
the old lay,
"It's of forests, of fields,
of a soul that was slain
among trees, in a dream,
of the lamp of the moon
that lights up scenes in Paradise,
it's of a solitary place".
I was the moony knight,
moonier than the moon at night,
with Gloom, my squire, on a rare night -

Emil Botta (The Knight of the Golden Snail)
trans. by Dan Dutescu