Curves of sculptures of the old Romans
Filled our way though Europe, all humans
But neither nymphs nor romans
Can tell me if you aren’t human
As the wind withered, whispering roman
Form which filled my poetry-praising you goddess, not the humans
As its boarders sank to the sea, we romans
Could see beautiful Tunis separated, unable to cross- only human
But time ticks, till our ships all roman
Cross, to the ruins of Libya, beauty destroyed by humans
Chills rattled me, the heat to heavy for roman
Shields, so I shed to bear skin, no more human
Only a fair soul lost in mans’
Philosophy, but tales tell me you aren’t human
And your shape, less clear in light
Grasped my eyes and I felt I was right.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem