Pierre de Ronsard
I send you here a wreath of blossoms blown,
And woven flowers at sunset gathered,
Another dawn had seen them ruined, and shed
Loose leaves upon the grass at random strown.
By this, their sure example, be it known,
That all your beauties, now in perfect flower,
Shall fade as these, and wither in an hour,
Flowerlike, and brief of days, as the flower sown.
Ah, time is flying, lady - time is flying;
Nay, ’tis not time that flies but we that go,
Who in short space shall be in churchyard lying,
And of our loving parley none shall know,
Nor any man consider what we were;
Be therefore kind, my love, whiles thou art fair.
Pierre de Ronsard's Other Poems
Read this poem in other languages
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
Comments about this poem (Roses by Pierre de Ronsard )
Did you read them?
- Life format, gajanan mishra
- Lonely On A Train, Omar Eldamsheety
- Stone, I do admit, gajanan mishra
- O Time, Stop You, It's My Birthday! Let .., Bijay Kant Dubey
- Release, Fiona Davidson
- Jacques the Last, John F. McCullagh
- Kaalchakra, The Wheel of Time, Bijay Kant Dubey
- The Moon Spoke to Me, Michael Mira
- Sinkin' boat, Aftab Alam
- Alesha the Cat, Steve Kittell
Poem of the Day
(March 26, 1874 – January 29, 1963)
(4 April 1928 - 28 May 2014)
- DEEPAK KUMAR PATTANAYAK
- Heather Burns
(1 February 1902 – 22 May 1967)
(24 January 1572 - 31 March 1631)
(26 April 1564 - 23 April 1616)
Edgar Allan Poe
(19 January 1809 - 7 October 1849)