The gossip-tongue lies still, in state
On silk pillows; perhaps umbrates
Foretastes of heaven, or of hell-
Though once I knew him very well.
He ruined my days with roving tongue,
Telling deeds best left undone;
Judgment in love’s not always best:
Bad memories now are his behest.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem