Ballad about Monsignor Simon Basin

/ это похабщина – предупреждаю /


 A travelling knight, monsignor Simon Basin
 was prowling the land of Provence –
 on his raven mare, impressive and classy,
 in search for a fight or romance.

 Once Simon Basin approached a castle
 that was decorated with flags.
 He shouted bravely: "Bridge down, you asses!
 Gates open widely, you fags!"

 His troubadour voice, both pleasant and loud,
 had opened many a door.
 He had the charisma, and style, and clout,
 and manners that ladies adore.

 The gates got unlocked, and the bridge went down.
 He proudly rode inside.
 In arms brightly shining, in his flying gown,
 he was incarnation of pride.

 He was full of virtues, and brave, and devout,
 and noble. And, possibly, saint.
 To greet him, a beautiful dame came out;
 and smitten she was, and fell faint.

 "Oh Basin, my wonderful Basin! – she quoth,–
 Thou hast been waited for long.
 And our Madam has given an oath
 to greet you by wine and a song.

 Your rest shalt be pleasant and most diverse.
 Your pleasures will be refined.
 And taken your virtues and noble birth,
 we give you a massive discount!"

 The face of the hero tarnished with grief,
 for empty his treasury was.
 His arms and his gown were a fig leaf,
 to hide a financial loss.

 He turned away from the castle afield,
 a noble and lonely knight.
 He found a grove, romantic and still,
 and there he stopped for a night.

 Whatever the ladies undoubtedly could
 provide for a generous fare,
 He got for himself in the Provencal woods
 from his badly-smelling old mare.

 The next happy day, he went  `a Paris,
 was warmly received at the court.
 With manners that good, and a spirit that free,
 oh, chivalry cannot be bought!