I play with lords and ladies
Often, and more often than you consider.
My name is not of a beggar, but a beautiful man,
Who is always in trouble from royalty.
My lordship was against the religious views I gave,
Yet only his profession obstructed understanding;
I laughed in his ears and eyes
As if I resented him, and his wife.
My only thought produced small wonders
Beginning the larger ideas, ending in philosophy
That I managed from sleep; the laughter died down.
In the end, my final thought was to play with the ladies
And gentlemen, and let wizardry be my mistress.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem