The Butterfly and the Lark (Shakespearan Sonnet)
Much like a painted picture taken flight,
With wings wearing yellows, pinks and blues,
A butterfly on Flora did alight,
His thirst to satiate with nect'rous juice.
Admiring him, upon a nearby tree,
Behind the foliage-screen a lark did hide.
The former froze with fear when, suddenly,
The ominous bird with oggling eyes he spied.
'Too small a prey I am; do pity me'
He begged. Then came a song-like sweet reply:
'Feast enough for me has been your beauty;
I've had my fill; for food no need have I.
But, whilst I sing, will you not display
Your glorious hues in all their bright array?
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.I would like to translate this poem