SURE never yet was antelope
Could skip so lightly by.
Stand off, or else my skipping-rope
Will hit you in the eye.
How lightly Whirls the skipping-rope !
How fairy-like you fly !
Go, get you gone, you muse and mope -
I hate that silly sigh.
Nay, dearest, teach me how to hope,
Or tell me how to die.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.I would like to translate this poem