And so you set me on to write a sonnet
For your pleasure (and mine own, dear sire,)
But more, I trust, a feather in the bonnet
Of a city that doth heights inspire
With her beauteous sights, her windy passion,
Her voluptuous anatomy,
Bequeathing brisk caress in lover's fashion,
Or tickling hearts with tiny atomies.
With beckoning bridges, she, like naughty bride
Through cloud and sun, the play of ice and fire,
Seduces folk to heaven's nearer side,
The place we fancy as our favorite shire.
But, of the words we set on, truth to tell,
I reckon 'heaven's other side' as... Well...?
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem
this is pretty good check out my poem cats