Returning from the cruel fight
How pale and faint appears my knight!
He sees me anxious at his side;
'Why seek, my love, your wounds to hide?
Or deem your English girl afraid
To emulate the Indian maid?'
Be mine my husband's grief to cheer
In peril to be ever near;
Whate'er of ill or woe betide,
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.I would like to translate this poem