How many shall pass this test;
To have the fruit and yet not taste it?
They shall be deemed the best
Who when given freely did not take it.
Yet she wonders: they wonder,
'Shall we pronounce him chaste? '
And not stopping to stare and ponder,
Make their judgement in haste.
Here I am, and there it lies
Served and iced like a wedding cake.
Though I feel it's suggestive cries,
Of the fruit I will not partake.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem