Goethe, Shakuntala,
Your Shakuntala
Which you felt,
Felt it for
Classically romantic,
An ashramite maiden
Reared by foster parents
Growing as a dream flower
So chaste and sacrosanct
In the midst of nature
But Cupid leaving her not behind
And fate running it otherwise,
But the marriage ring disclosing the secret.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem