Oh what mockery has befallen me?
This day of burning love tortures me so
And from old mutiny I wish I was free
But regret not my love for Montague’s foe
O wing’d being, why tempt my heart of love?
‘Doth thou love I? ’ only the Greatness knows
Sun praised locks, heavens eyes; the purest of doves
Thou kind soul hath outshone the whitest rose!
How could my temple of knowledge deceive?
I knew not of love and what it should mean
Oh how I tossed and turned, cried and grieved!
Now I love Juliet, not Rosaline
But cruel fate may always keep us apart
However I’ll love her from all my heart!
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem