Adam Scrivener, if ever it thee befall
Boece or Troilus for to write anew,
Under thy long locks thou may'st have the scall
But after my making thou write more true!
So oft a day I must thy work renew,
It to correct, and eke to rub and scrape;
And all is through thy negligence and rape.
O gracious morning eglantine,
Making the far old English ways divine!
Though from thy stock our mateless rose was bred,
Staining the world's skies with its red,
Our garden gives no scent so fresh as thine,
Sweet, thorny-seeming eglantine.
Who call him spurious and shoddy
Shall do it o'er my lifeless body.
I heartily invite such birds
To come outside and say those words!
Charity thou art a lie,
A toy of women,
A pleasure of certain men.
In the presence of justice,
Lo, the walls of the temple
Are visible
Through thy form of sudden shadows.
sudhi dhrustileka sukrunantativadu
pattaleka manasu paravidichi
kannupova bidapa gaki chandambuna
viswadhabhirama vinura vema
HOW many times we must have met
Here on the street as strangers do,
Children of chance we were, who passed
The door of heaven and never knew.
The candle casts deep shadows on the screen,
The Milky Way dims and morning stars fade.
Chang-O must regret stealing the elixir,
As she broods in loneliness night after night.
For we have thought the larger thoughts
And gone the shorter way.
And we have danced to devil's tunes,
Shivering home to pray;
To serve one master in the night,
Another in the day.
Et l'unique cordeau des trompettes marines
Change me, O heav'ns, into the ruby stone,
That on my love's fair locks doth hang in gold:
Yet leave me speech, to her to make my moan;
And give me eyes, her beauties to behold.
Or, if you will not make my flesh a stone,
Make her hard heart seem flesh, that now seems none.
