Three women form the subject of these lines.
The first’s the one that got away.
She reigns in the past.
The second I’m not like to ever see.
She’s far beyond my grasp.
The third is she who corners all my praise.
She is no ghost or figment of brain’s craze.
She is the one I’ve clasped.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.I would like to translate this poem