.
I grieve and dare not show my discontent,
I love and yet am forced to seem to hate,
I do, yet dare not say I ever meant,
I seem stark mute but inwardly to prate.
I am and not, I freeze and yet am burned.
Since from myself another self I turned.
My care is like my shadow in the sun,
Follows me flying, flies when I pursue it,
Stands and lies by me, doth what I have done.
His too familiar care doth make me rue it.
No means I find to rid him from my breast,
Till by the end of things it be supprest.
Some gentler passion slide into my mind,
For I am soft and made of melting snow;
Or be more cruel, love, and so be kind.
Let me or float or sink, be high or low.
Or let me live with some more sweet content,
Or die and so forget what love ere meant
.
This conflict may have arisen, no doubt, because of her position as Queen.
This is actually quite revealing of who she is. She is surely a ruler. For she knows her role and place above all other things, even love. She is human, but is more remarkable for it. The poem, well written, tells the truth. History, and it, has not betrayed her. I pray that mine, shall do the same. Greenwolfe 1962
QUEEN MOTHER...For sure you are watching and listening from a far better place than where we must write from for now, but I won't pass on the opportunity to speak and comment in the highest regards of your prsemanship in your earthly Life... You did well & will long be remembered, as you already have. '''''''''''''''''''''''''~f.j.r.~'''''''''''''''''''''''''
two sides of a coin, good, bad, yes, no, up, down, and on and on...i like your poem very much.......
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem
The restrictions of being Royal as the heart flutters and yearns...no freedom to follow its whims.