One obtempers and obeys the judge on high ground,
Like an obscure ruling and like a laughable act;
This choppy speech separates and displays,
As fast as a sonnet in despair.
Full of knops, this jar has fixed the heart,
So that circumstantially one has counted
The knops and reduced the boredom of waiting.
This choppy speech cares for more heat,
Full of chops, reasons and spares.
I have to hear my word, and then obtemper,
Like the lovely man and the lovely woman
In appeal, forcing their wits secondly.
You find it more useful than Beaumontague,
Or as hard as the solution on the wall.
The appearer swings his beloved axe,
The appearance is a verdict - "Guilty! "
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem