Mine eyes hath never bore such comeliness,
But thy beauty reflects loves most wicked sin,
That in thine own splendor,
A folly plagues a fickle view,
Held high in thy own glee, conceived by aspiration,
Thoughtlessness gilded by a reasoned dissolute,
For one course aims a mortal barren due,
That by a waged levy;
Claim is laid against tender years;
A war gained by futile means,
By sense, repulse conquers a fiendish way,
For insight fends a lure with mighty reap.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem