Align! Horsemen, on this grave night of fire,
Who bear the chariot of whom I desire;
Which rides in darkness with smok'd wheels a flame,
Out from oblivion with ruinous claim;
Tis Art that's claim'd me! Thine Art is my Shame!
O Forgive! Forgive me my Maria!
Forgive now! Should I forget thy dear name!
Sweet Song! For all I hear is Coletta!
Music is thy sword, and Love is thus slain,
For such cordial hearts beat only in vain;
If Art is Love, is head or heart in guilt?
Tis sin that I bloom, when she does but wilt!
To've betray'd thy cheer for the flow'r's alure,
Forsake me, Romance! For Art is my Cure!
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem
heyyyyy to u oh yeah this poem is something the opposite of not nice....... '¨°°o°°¨]§[° nice poem °]§[¨°°o°°¨'