Thou liest dead,-lie on: of thee
No sweet remembrances shall be,
Who never plucked Pierian rose,
Who never chanced on Anterôs.
Unknown, unnoticed, there below
Through Aides' houses shalt thou go
Alone,-for never a flitting ghost
Shall find in thee a lover lost.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem