Well I may have lost you, and have lost you fairly;
In my own way, and with my full consent.
Say what you will, Kings in a Tumble rarely
went to their deaths more proud than this one.
Some nights of apprehension and hot weeping
I will confess; but that's permitteed me
Day dried my eyes; I was not one for keeping
Rubbed in a cage a wing that would be free
If I loved you less or played you slyly
I might have hald you a summer more
But at the cost of word I value highly
and no such summer as the one before
Should I outlive this anguish-and women do
I shall have only good to say of you.
Alexandria Reed
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem