No embarrassment in
consider to be evil
performance,
imitation of
that give print
of my writings,
the beauty without
indecent ornaments,
adorned with virtues;
a virtuous wise,
between enemies
the truth not
if you give the lights,
leading to
the glory of the majesty
the horror,
with the righteous
They know see
unworthy gift of flattery
nor I risk
lying wrong,
well I do my craft,
silent,
as you yours,
spoken
to paint Majesties,
not fail me
brushes of Apelles
the love of honor,
horror of guilt,
the inclination to science,
the forgiving enemies,
compassion poverty,
Oh art slaves
I wanted to show you with
songs,
the tears
They were born of joy,
and the beauty triumphs,
when virtue,
It is good and constant...
Carlos Ac Libera
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem
love of honour, horror of guilt..good one