When the night
Chased us to rest;
Had my flesh to fight
Foreseeing the test,
Her character bold;
Divine and saint
As my thirst manifold
Far away from Chaste!
But lo! Whither
My heart travelled,
By the tempestuous weather,
She still kept me close; my soul marvelled
With a sigh;
How, fainted to the dust from lust, she lifts me high.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem