Prelude - Tristan And Isolde Poem by Algernon Charles Swinburne
Prelude - Tristan And Isolde
Fate, out of the deep sea's gloom,
When a man's heart's pride grows great,
And nought seems now to foredoom
Fate,
Fate, laden with fears in wait,
Draws close through the clouds that loom,
Till the soul see, all too late,
More dark than a dead world's tomb,
More high than the sheer dawn's gate,
More deep than the wide sea's womb,
Fate.
Gosh, Swinburne's meter and rhyme is flawless. He doesn't say anything important, but what he does say he says exqusitely.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem
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4/26/2024 6:27:01 PM # 1.0.0.1119
Which then results to...an exquisite word arranger, i suppose?