How dare I speak while facing your fair gaze,
Whose beauty can't be put in any word?
By making insults fall onto your grace
My lines are doomed and they do only hurt.
Why should I speak and not hear of your voice?
Whose wisdom would Minerva's face turn gloom,
Whose sound Apollo secretly enjoys
As I enjoy it from my earthly tomb.
But condescend, I beg, to mortal falsely poem.
No fear, your virtues will remain untainted.
Yet how much glory you'd bestow upon him
Letting his words touch what he with them painted.
Now comes the time I can no more deny
The need for question: better speak or die?
22. How dare I speak while facing your fair gaze
© Copyright: Александр Арганаиди, 2021
Свидетельство о публикации №121042004096
Свидетельство о публикации №121042004096
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