Dance, dance with quivering breath.
Romance; a fairy fire in my chest,
Tis but an imitation of the truth.
So like reflection doth depend,
On light of sun and eye of man,
Ah rarely tis the answer sooth.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem
Tis but an imitation of the truth so like reflection doth depend on light of sun and eye of man nice