From Canto 5
Almost all had forgotten of selves
Only Neicul keeps temper immobile
Even at most sorrowful shelves
Examining himself in a while,
A good thought in his mind overworks,
To come out in front of the Turks,
That barely will can do something
Through supplication and obeisance,
For that poor Gypsy community.
Thus taking also other old faces
He went just before the highest one
And kneeling uttered crying complain:
“Mister Turks! listen, have commiseration
Of our poor Gypsy tribe with horse!
For really not by will but coercion,
In order that not happen the worse,
They had to dress in arms themselves
Having not what to do more or less!
Same Vlad Vodă for these is of guilt,
Only God Almighty may to him pay ,
That in this mud he has pushed us and built,
But our Gypsy extract race array
With all people leaves in peace, no prattle,
And truly that doesn't like the battle.
Hence with greed do not so much covet
To dastard Gypsy inspiration soul.
Take from us all possessions and bread,
Undress us up to the skin, not ghoul,
But only leave to us, high Ottoman,
For caressing, life, children and woman.
You know well that also at you the poor
Gypsies live merely of alms commonly,
Making work and paying tribute as boor,
Neither to war go but forced only.
Hence do forgive us now for once,
And Holy Virgin give you forgiveness !...
O! forgive us, the moon give you help!
Be that Mahomet many years to live!
Forgotten be those deeds passed with yelp!...
Almighty to thunder us fugitive
If we are guilty into this aster,
And from there what is for you the gain
If you take out our liveliness/ sweet life/existence
And our wives will alone remain
With tiny kids in their arms fatherless?
We will perish, indeed! but in turning
They will deport after us long mourning.”
Here Neicul was about to say more,
When Răzvan keeping the eyes at chief,
With cheerfulness rises his voice: Io!
Behold! His majesty the domn, belief!...”
For he new Vlad all the empire,
Although he was in foreign attire.
And real/actual/true with chosen cavalry
Vlad was, and in order not to rankle
For doing research, had dressed soldiery
Turkish from head up to the ankle,
Purposely deciding to drop in
To our armed group of Gypsy kin.
Therefore with forced wrath Vodă king Vlad,
For hardly could abstain from laughter,
„O! (he cried) bastard offspring gone mad!
Is this your bravery thereafter?
For this did I give you arms and property
And I feed you, cursed crows, in poverty!...
For, instead of defending your country
And to fight against pagan Ottomans,
Over me to speak outrageously?
After that to give you in their hands
At enemies, only few hundreds,
You, so many thousands of privates?
Behold, you know that since now dishes
I'll not give you without endeavor
Against Turks at least one fight, who misses,
Making over them triumph whichever,
And if will prostrate to Turks like to us
“Do forgive, Your Majesty (Neicu said),
We are here without any fault,
That who would have believe such misread
To happen and to come in assault
On us dressed as Turks the Muntenians?
Do consider justly, your highness!...
But however counting with justice right,
By God! It wasn't for your Greatness
To stick in our back so much fright
With those ugly cursed cealma-turbans!...
This (God Almighty let keep you in life long),
By Heaven that wasn't a Gypsy joke!”
Upon that it is coming in a hurry
A horseman giving to Vodă news event
How that a swarm of pagan army
Not far away, near by a convent
Resting would be, as it seems on ground,
Waiting for another bigger band.
As the prince this understood clearly,
Without a word immediately went
With Muntenian chosen cavalry,
And our Gypsy diligent regiment:
Like from dream now they arise upright
Very content that escaped of fright.
Translation by George Anca