O, Vrba, happy village, my old home -
My father's cottage stands there to this day.
The lure of learning beckoned me away.
Its serpent wiles enticing me to roam,
Else had I never known that heart's joy,
Sweet promise, could become a poisoned draught,
Not known myself of self-belief bereft,
Tossed in internal tempests like a toy.
A dowry riches never could surpass,
A faithful heart, a hand that's made for work,
Would have come with a chosen country lass
Serenely onward would have sailed my bark,
My house from fire, my corn from hailstorm loss
Safeguarded by my neighbour near, Sain Mark.
tossed in internal tempest like a toy.riches can never surpass a faithful heart36778
A good use of sonnet and the rhyme scheme. A systematic blend of quatrain and triplet. A good piece. Sylva.
As if this poem was written about me, so close to my feelings and heart!
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem
A faithful heart.... thanks for posting.....