Farewell To Modern Poets
Spent my muse: half but a dreg,
Bankrupt it goes, soon to lend:
Perhaps, suppliers will lend.
Head aches, wit remonstrates,
Hand grunts; seeks to escape
But heart still imitate.
Said we have a talk:
We, all ancient poets:
Shakespeare (damn him!)Calls.
Josh Berry
18: 08: 07: 11: 23
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem