Few will believe my genuine praise
Of the rare graces you so subtly possess,
Men of a lighter spirit may trace
My adulation to some forbidden drug.
Yet if men your gracious beauty opt to doubt,
May these immortal lines your record keep;
And may that rare seeker of truth unbelieving lies
Find these enduring lines in some forgotten heap.
Ashamed, they will read ‘Ode to Kate’
And curse the error of baseless doubt.
Your fame shall outlast the rigors of fate
As you get peppered into the larger earth.
The yellowing ode to your fair features
And wasting flesh under Nature’s weight
Shall not your unmatched loveliness erase
But make sweet the tale of gorgeous surfeit.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem
Lovely flow of words