The Knight

The Knight rides forth in coat of mail
    Into the roar of the world.
    And here is Life: the vines in the vale
    And friend and foe, and the feast in the hall,
    And May and the maid, and the glen and the grail;
    God's flags afloat on every wall
    In a thousand streets unfurled.

    Beneath the armour of the Knight
    Behind the chain's black links
    Death crouches and thinks and thinks:
    "When will the sword's blade sharp and bright
    Forth from the scabbard spring
    And cut the network of the cloak
    Enmeshing me ring on ring—
    When will the foe's delivering stroke
    Set me free
    To dance
    And sing?"
        (tr. Jessie Lamont)