O, fair Lais, sweet hetaerae of Corinth
Thy face, an abode, for finest mura
More concealing, thy gaze, than labyrinth
Out of this world hast thy cheek expelled coral.
Fair mistress of Apelles, goddess of lust
Were virtues dearly priced in thy favour?
Thou leased less stress to love, peril be must.
The mourning of war, was to thy savour.
Poorest emeralds, are of pure virtues green.
But thy skin are falsely of plated gold.
Then why, fair Lais, are his eyes aptly
keen,
T'see thy full cast, that may scarcely betold?
Out of your charm, sweetkeen, all men shall get.
You are most roseate of all beings I've met.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem
~A wonderful poem, Folayemi. Thank you for sharing Peace