That day I tried to write a gloomy song,
When clouds drizzle all day, winds weep and hie.
And then my quill refused to write too long
About that sky where sighs in blue do lie.
Beneath that sky once stood the nature's proud.
Comely was her figure, born for love's vows.
Amid those lines my heart chanted aloud:
To that favor of yours, so my head bows!
Gifted were those ears, yet a leaden pair,
Had my love denied, Cupid's arrow rived.
For whom, I doubt, is she being so fair?
As so fair she is, so my sorrow thrived.
Since balance was never what love was named,
For what, to her was my heart still so tamed?
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem