Ophelia Poem by Martin Moore
Ophelia
Ophelia, oh noble storm
your latent anger, onerous
reveal your hand, your female form
your errant madness over us
pour forth your tears on this dear isle
each village town and hamlet
your ugly beauty will not beguile
we will withstand the gamut
you'll rue the day, to your dismay
when the willow branch is broken
and you shall fall in disarray
a tropical, teacup token.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
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5/7/2024 7:41:45 AM # 1.0.0.1119
