Didst thou tremble, O beast of the lexicon
As thy hooded eyes on nubile flesh didst dwell?
Or wast thy mind on other stellular delights
oblivious to a well-turned heel
and a rosy breast in swell?
Where wast thou, unseen heart of mine
Thou who wouldst conquer all...
Arbiter, adjudicator, judge!
Spartacus in the killing fields of desire.
(Oh Will, how thy passion doth rhyme
Indeed, sire, thou art in full prime.
And be it not fine
When the bed starts to whine
Like a sonnet in double-quick time!)
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem