I dare not dare to ask the dance.
I cannot bear to take that chance
Though none compare to her aisance,
Heart, in despair, cannot advance.
Returning stare with smiling glance
I muse on muse as in a trance,
Naught could prepare for what’s perchance
Earth’s fairest fair, soft, countenance.
Her lustrous hair shines to enhance
The angel air that must entrance
All who with flair in vraisemblance
Love-struck are there, with no nuance.
My joy I’d share, each circumstance,
Of dreams and prayer the sum, romance
Replaces care, insouciance
Gilds everywhere where falls her glance.
A form hors pair I eye askance,
Exquisite, rare, I’d die for France!
Why can’t I dare my suit advance:
Her heart to share through life’s long dance?
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem