Next, then, the peacock, gilt
With all its feathers. Look, what gorgeous dyes
Flow in the eyes!
And how deep, lustrous greens are splashed and spilt
Along the back, that like a sea-wave's crest
Scatters soft beauty o'er th' emblazoned breast!
A strange fowl! But most fit
For feasts like this, whereby I honor one
Pure as the sun!
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.I would like to translate this poem