Mistress, life's rough patches have dealth us a blow
The one bethroted by your scornful beauty
A touch, suck of your lips, your white eyes as snow
Is but days summed in hell. Such place as filthy?
What clay and art did hell mold you sinful being?
Prettily, you blend with life's promiscous ground
You widowed our faith, priced us a thousand sin
Such luscious creature from gate of hell found.
To every earthly man, your beauty cursed them each.
If a sin is to gaze, to feel is to death
Who in righteousness will stand and cast the preach
When your holy self is everyone's rebirth.
Be all inembrated for this cross we bear
For the heavens gate is shot on us I fear.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem