Here sits and tutors like the virgin of tudors!
Fragile is her frame since the twelfth of late year,
At fault of fate in hand with the morning gawker,
With no heart and no aid in his rising rays
Lapsed her! O Lapsed her! She is my tutor!
Unforeseen of trauma, sat she among the tutors,
At thirty past two pierced her, the hex of that year,
O why She? With the aura of Nature's every dower.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.I would like to translate this poem