II
Josef Štýbr translation
I am the knight from the old tale Who proudly to the far world rode To see the lass who’s like a rose And to discover her abode. Who would behold her—said her fame— Would by a ban at once be struck; His heart would be rent from his breast, Or he would change to be a rock. Thought I to myself, possibly For clemency there might be room. I ventured out and for my sin— Became a bard by rigid doom.