With sword in hand, do I mount...
Nobly searching, Love's own count.
Light of heart in Love's affairs...
learnedly do I climb these stairs.
Affairs of the heart do I sway...
Of thy own obstacle's, uttered say.
Tongue of heart, beastly opted...
Head done split, kindly chop ted.
Angled head, done astray...
Dangled strangely, must I pray.
For her heart, had I fought...
With a dragon, not I sought.
Maiden fair as fair of old...
Smite me with a beauty,
breathtakingly bold.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem