Misery weighed by drachms and scruples
Is but scrawls on a vain page,
To cruel masters we are pupils,
Escape comes careless with old Age.
O why were stars so set in Heaven
To desire greedily as gluttons do;
Or children trinkets - May death make even
So rough an evil as we go through.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem