Regret

When I was young I learnt fencing
And was better at it than Crooked Castle.
My spirit was high as the rolling clouds
And my fame resounded beyond the World.
I took my sword to the desert sands,
I drank my horse at the Nine Moors.
My flags and banners flapped in the wind,
And nothing was heard but the song of my drums.

War and its travels have made me sad,
And a fierce anger burns within me:
It’s thinking of how I’ve wasted my time
That makes this fury tear my heart.