Beauty is a curse
But yours stare and say
'Think not of me a curse
But if must thou,
Then marry my beautiful curse esteemly to thy mind'
If cursed be beauty
To weary becomes a folly
As might other men an ally of thought
For then I am cursed by you
For your beauty becomes my curse
But feel no guilt, still
B'cuz I shall lark in thy embrace
To endear this curse is perforce
And so I shall esteemly bear
To the adulation of thy mortal self
Till the arrival of the Jews.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem