When first I saw thee breaking stones
My heart was filled with praise
And delight on a rose like face.
What heaving bosom and how did it nurse
The hopes of life and desires of youth
And how joyfully didst thou talk
Of life everlasting.
But now I am pained to see thee;
Is it thou same young lady?
So changed in so short a time!
These sunken eyes, these hollow looks
Are these the same that pierced my heart?
O stony stare, where is life?
Whither is hope fled?
These withered cheeks, these pale lips
No more betray the colour of a rose;
And this bosom which once did nurse
The hopes of life; the joys of youth:
To this bosom now clings a child,
A life! Oh no no no
It's misery nursing death.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem
Here also there is a stark contrast drawn between Then and Now! How time has blanched the rose red cheeks, how in the place of lustrous eyes, two sunken hollows left, how ravines are created on her face by the ravages of fate! ! Again a great read, Sir!