O Caroline,
Your lips are so divine.
That, I wish I were the rose,
You kissed and left for the crows.
For, flawless I would be beneath the tip,
Of your sweet tasting lip.
O Caroline, answer me or is that even your name,
Or did you change it to Annabel, just to put this love ever rising to shame.
O Caroline, O Annabel,
Whichever is fine, as long as my heart doesn’t dwell.
On this Rose you kissed and left to decay,
To the beaks of these, crows to sway away.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem