Near for to bloom! At which instant
One kiss, to blush as makes.
Now place, I dare you, an ear
By what, fair one, buds near.
Be it, bee-calendared, hive-hung
Is weeks off, rose-boasted.
Emerging spasmodic outrage
Of jealous shocks. Each stage!
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem