Bounded by the sense of disbeliefs
amid friendship or any-
the spurs of the moment queried
on the worn glittering gold ring;
The laughter giggles from within
as this my dear friend admitted
that it was not hers! ...
But it was off-handed by a kin or so
whose interest was the spectacle:
By the play of men it suddenly glittered
amid the joyful shouts and merries!
But, who could it be among them
or it just flew out off finger's reach?
It mattered not to who it may be
as the keen eyes shot at the ring
by the courtyard bounded by men.
Now, I see it worn by a naked finger
to her delight the venturer's cry
shut by the eyes of the beholder:
Why? , Ask not to me but hers, Sarah!
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.I would like to translate this poem