What promises undone to thy demands, my love?
If Sun returns aback to Nature, and rounds ever
His step-lover, what manifests him above?
If the beach groans in emptiness, and her demon lover
Filleth her with his rage, what less undone?
'Tis better manure hearts with fertile eagerness
'Tis better remain long ourselves alone
For it may not cause our demands suppress.
Now the days are winged into desirous skies
Now the days are sowed into appealing earth.
O thou, let us not be dipped into ails
Or let hearts see aback, or take second birth.
If Sun is fit to Nature, I'm no more less to thee
If the sea filleth the beach, equally I'll be.
11-23-2014
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem