The Executioner and Lovely Martha

A long time ago in a faraway land
An executioner lived and did his deed.
His robe was stained by the work of his hand
And the heart in his chest never did beat.

So he would say, “It is not my will,
To judge who is guilty or who goes free.
The orders are given on who shall be killed
By rule of the Queen, and no one but she.

Whom should he meet in the tavern one day
But the daughter of rebels, she captured his heart
Her beautiful eyes, her pale shoulders bare
Made Lovely Martha a true work of art.

About his love he let out not a breath 
For he knew quite well she would never forgive
Those who condemned her father to death
She’d sworn revenge, as long as she lived.

The castle was gripped in the darkness of night
Come morning, in town a rumour had spread
Martha had murdered the Queen by moonlight
Today for the crime she would pay with her head

News of her doom excited the crowd
The executioner’s head hung down in despair
As Lovely Martha, defiant and proud,
Was led up the path with her hands bound in chains.

Is there a way to spare her this fate?
To save her soul from suffering and pain?
Is there a way to bring love out of hate?
And let her have her freedom again?

Tears in his eyes, the axe in his hand,
The executioner stood, his heart filled with dread
In a whisper he spoke what he never had planned
I love you… – And off went her head.


Это перевод стихотворения Андрея Анэля "Палач и Прекрасная Марта"