Thy beauty; pale and plagued with me,
Oh thy thoughts; thy feelings I consort,
For no eyes meet me like thine; like thee,
She a sovereign; a trophy to my sickness,
I am not well; I fell in love,
In feeble health; I am in illness.
Though thy emotions numb,
Thy sunken eyes low,
Search for my love;
And you shall find,
It is your own.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem