Moonlights without love, just a waste of moons,
Loose, empty hugs, apt tunnels for the wind,
Sand castles built upon the shifting dunes,
Such sorry wastes, I'm hapless to rescind;
A showy dress of living contents, nil,
A lovely face, to mask the lack of soul,
Might Galatea all my dreams fulfill,
If statues bear the charms that I extol;
But surely soon, a love, some goddess brings,
Much better though than decked with ancient gems,
Are by precepts on which great wisdom clings,
The best for any lass to wear than diadems;
......My fault, being still of the past, it seems,
......To oft confuse the memories with dreams.
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I would like to translate this poem