Ye grip thy sword tightly,
Ready to slay the dragon,
Thy standing 'O so mighty.
Fear setting in, but not taking over
Shaking and trembling as the dragon got closer.
Ye clenched the sword tighter whilst holding the lucky green clover.
Villagers scream and run in terror,
With no fear in you heart ye defeat the all powerful dragon.
Thou art the last, the one and only sword bearer,
Thou will always protect thy village from a reign of terror.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem