Robert Louis Stevenson - The Black Arrow

Hace tiempo os hablaba de La Flecha Negra y os copiaba una (de tantas) traducción al español del poema del prólogo.
Me complace informaros, para vosotros traductores y gente interesada en general, que estoy en posesión del poema original. O eso creo.
He de decir que, igual es por haberlo leído mil veces más, pero la versión de mi libro me sigue pareciendo genial. Mis respetos al señor José Méndez Herrera.

I had four blak arrows under my belt,

Four for the greefs that I have felt,

Four for the nomber of ill menne

That have opressid me now and then.

One is gone; one is wele sped;

Old Apulyaird is ded.

One is for Maister Bennet Hatch,

That burned Grimstone, walls and thatch.

One for Sir Oliver Oates,

That cut Sir Harry Shelton’s throat.

Sir Daniel, ye shull have the fourt;

We shall think it fair sport.

Ye shull each have your own part,

A blak arrow in each blak heart.

Get ye to your knees for to pray:

Ye are ded theeves, by yea and nay!

"JON AMEND-ALL

of the Green Wood,

And his jolly fellaweship.

"Item, we have mo arrowes and goode hempen cord for otheres of your following."