Exactly four hundred years ago
From the year of my birth, Bro!
Appeared in the world a light
With a unique heavenly glow
How long but smoothly his words
Travelling with a brimming flow
That even the four centuries' time
Never seems too long and slow
His every rhyme and every play
Finds into every heart a way
Bearing a stamp of his true soul
To master every moment and day
I always wish for a minute trace
Of his glare not more but less
May enter into my barren soul
To make my feels fertile'n fresh
With this useless rhyme, I beg pardon
With its all futility and boredom
I humbly pay my richest tributes
Though sound nothing before his attributes
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem