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 don’t fear sharp words’ 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 marksmen’s 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 don’t take the troubles in mind,
They are outlows, freelancers,
they don’t 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!

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