Oh rosemary-
Night's favored flower.
Where the weeping moon
sprinkles its lonely droplets upon your leaves.
Give me solace;
To my restless soul.
Look at it nesting in those thickets-
Rest, oh mournful existence!
To be burdened
with the Moon's lonely tales of woe.
How envious, of Daylight's blooms-
It dissipates unnoticed amidst exclusion.
Sweet, delicious fragrance
as I drown my thoughts beneath your roots.
How gentle the efforts of thine
to soothe my weary soul.
The Sun's children are a blushing lot-
joyful to behold;
But my senses are dulled
to common pleasures such as they.
I find Rosemary's depth of green spotted with tears
a far greater and intriguing sight.
Dear, oh dear-
let me live in similar, untarnished solitude!
Dear, oh dear- let me live in similar, untarnished solitude! Very nice conclusion.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem
a beautiful write. keep writing.