When at about time two we twain parted unawares,
Whilst all the panorama of this world beside,
Save I to beweep my outcast state forlorn;
That to a land of fairies abides by thee alone,
Of golden tress her hair upon the strand of still waters,
A bunch of stars to collect by the sea ashore
Against this modern electra of thy most high deserts,
I still can behold, my love, to that day of unaltered eye:
Away from out of sight to my mind still in abundance,
Full rich content of e'ery flower upon a barren heath,
Oft in precious minutes waste many a day by nights;
Else thy higher being's most eloquent other around my head,
Pardon me! not least to claim I by the sweat of thy brow,
Along the pavement of cow parsley, a mistletoe on his back,
Too, but hurts me to think on thee of ages that are dead,
Twice by far removed from thee my Lord's light to crow's quill of ruffled feathers;
Of whom, they say, not I that moves afoot to eternal bliss in waking hour,
Ere you know the hand that writ in mournful numbers,
This embassage of what I write to the west wind in autumn.
(C) Naveed Khalid
Copy Rights (C) 2014.
All Rights Reserved.
Date Created: Saturday, December 13,2014 3: 59: 38 PM
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem