MOTHER of Hermes! and still youthful Maia!
May I sing to thee
As thou wast hymned on the shores of Baiae?
Or may I woo thee
In earlier Sicilian? or thy smiles
Seek as they once were sought, in Grecian isles,
By bards who died content on pleasant sward,
Leaving great verse unto a little clan?
O give me their old vigour! and unheard
Save of the quiet primrose, and the span
Of heaven, and few ears,
Rounded by thee, my song should die away
Content as theirs,
Rich in the simple worship of a day.
The Poets sing their 'Soulful Music', So here is Keats who says 'My song' and not my poem. People can read his words But need his immortal soul to adjust the lyric.
' my song should die away Content as theirs, Rich in the simple worship of a day'........ This is the last prayer of every poet. With our verses we may run after the world and rake the brains but nothing happens in essence. So, we will settle for the idea which Keats has beautifully penned in these verses. Great!
The title captivates me... urge me to read since it seems so interesting to find out the lines on this piece... and I'm not mistaken what's inside is a piece with a classical touch ...very impressive.. and lovely... 10+++ lovelots, Maia
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem
The Poets sing their 'Soulful Music', So here is Keats who says, ' My song' and not my poem People can read his words But need his immortal soul to adjust the lyric.