From her lips flew arrows I wish I did not Own,
And I felt such Affliction, with tears not Shown.
Compared I did the great loves of past Similar;
For once I felt such Elation in blessed Particular.
And now—thanks to foolish actions—I do Scour
From a Lamp whose contents will undoubtedly Sour.
Her name: quite common to those who’ve Heard.
‘Such splendor! ’ I, with a gleam, would often Word.
Strong was our Love and soon we Learned:
‘Together, such mirth! ’ we often Confirmed.
And so after years of joy and worth things turned to the Red:
‘Our Love remains a question’—a Sunflower once Said.
‘One cannot comprehend your thoughts and drive to be what it Is.’
Such rhapsody was lost in the interminable actions of His.
‘But does the plethora of angelic voices still chant in his Mind? ’
—Fond memories festoon in this Mind, well Confined.
So please pass from this poor soul you terrible Deed,
And restore Affection to this Milkweed—this I so Plead.
‘Be true and be Gold! ’ I one day fancy to AWAKE.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem