Advanced galloping in the snow,
muffled sounds, feel numb, smoke from his nose.
The King of the Tartars rests in the ice cave,
a warm coat on the shoulders of the skins of foxes,
in our hands the letter sent by Prince Igor.
The Cossacks are at the gates of the Kingdom,
and there is a difficult choice to make.
war or surrender?
Good or bad, love or hate, right or wrong?
will be a long night for the guard of the King of the Tartars.
Vincenzo
0 comments:
Post a Comment