At London, Thames is a broad stream
Which was the scene of a sad theme.
A fragile steamer there did play
O'ercrowded on a Queen's Birthday,
While all on board was bright and gay ;
But soon, 'neath the cold water, lay
Naught but forms of lifeless clay,
Which made, alas ! sad month of May.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem