What love is, but an error,
Contagious in two egotistic mind,
Rising a malicious terror
For a veiling intention that unkind?
What is love, but a fear,
Covered in pure pathetic vow,
Which wrung the heart to spill a tear,
Leaving the soul disgrace below?
What is love, but a vassal,
Ruled by evil voices that murmur,
In malice aforethought abysmal,
But lurk by beauteous blur?
And what is love, but a tragedy,
Since Adam and Eve to Romeo and Juliet,
In love story of everlasting comedy,
Remnant of anguish silhouette?
So I will howl it under the full moon,
In every decayed flesh and tortured soul,
That love for me is perverted boon,
Alter me into a mortified fool.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.I would like to translate this poem