格拉斯哥(h)

prisoner tell his mind,

Openly, without sadness；

But, vehemently, he can write a song

I have many friends, but poor are the gifts

Shame on them, if to gather my ransom

I am here for two winters.

They know well, my men and barons,

English, Normans, Poitevins and Gascons,

That I have no panion, no matter how poor

That I would leave in prison without acting.

I am not criticising,

But I am still prisoner.

Never can a prisoner tell his mind,

Openly, without sadness；

But, vehemently, he can write a song

I have many friends, but poor are the gifts

Shame on them, if to gather my ransom

I am here for two winters.)

“你知道么，狮心王查理虽然是英格兰国王，但他大部分时间呆在法国，甚至可能不会讲英语。”

“那这首歌讲什么？”

“讲他被囚禁。”

这种中世纪歌谣，原本适合一个络腮胡子中气十足的中年英法汉子唱，钟子川低沉凉薄的嗓音唱来，显得这事后裸着上身的少年更加脆弱破碎。尤雪期看着黑暗中他的剪影，凑过去轻轻舔了舔他微凉的嘴唇。

“你想不想听狗血剧？”

他搂她在怀里，

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