To sorrow is to joy, to laff is to weep
Let me be the gall that sweetens thy bile
Wear unto thy face thy pride as robust thy hip
Somantha to reek as thy breath, will take while
Thou art far fair in looks than a ghala bat
Rather your cry than the sore song of nightingale
Lilies are far dull than the hue of thy heart
A troy art more light than thy dimples weigh
Thy breath hath more temperate than a tempest storm
The trends of thine eyes hath more glamour than a star
Thy smile art better fame than rose could ever form
The bloom of thy pulse stills my throb from hither.
Thou hath more fire welding thy beauty
The eternal glory of thy country.
Please note that the use of archaic words is solely for sound effect.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem