You, whose flight was
A frightening away
Behold, from these
Your shades, as bashful my way!
Park of peep-holes
For sighing back at you in.
Sneaked through of brook
For sun's glimmer-vouching.
In whose range still?
Sad Recall's! Where sheering
Soft-shrieks the other
As off nets of leering.
Tragedy, by
This moral, appended, saved
That bliss seldom
Is by an earthly stuff braved.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem