I will never let this honour slip,
Nor against endless will I to its green grow.
Desiring no fairer beauty in my sleep,
But your lips upon mine to bestow
Kisses, that on men's envy will my fortune pride.
And at my desires' length long-
I will need a space to make it wide,
That I will your name my haughty song.
Song of 'beauty fairest, spotless, and no stain.
And if I through my song make you mine-
The astronomers a derision and such to my sprain.
Then your heart will my soul everly dine.
We will feed on love and happily stay,
Keeping everything else at bay.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.I would like to translate this poem