Said I:
‘Misfortune on misfortune
Misfortune after misfortune
Runs on me
And over-runs me'
Then said Minerva whispering:
‘To other pastures turn,
To other fields until
There will some fortune be therein'
And then she left me with my furrowed brows.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem