Where art thou
without thee
no music nor write. Hate me this way.
Ways can i seek you muse?
Muse
my inspiration art thou
sleeping thou art?
Better wake
for without thee
music or poetry is vain
all for none
looketh me thou is the people
for pleasure,
but when thou art gone
how expect me do you think i can grant them wish.
Muse; awake, better still annoy thy Loves
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem
Fine music fine poem, thanks. I invite you to read my poems and comment and vote.