What good is it to me that once you praised
The golden splendour of my plaited hair,
Or that to two bright Suns you would compare
The beauty of my eyes, from which Love gazed
And shot the cruel darts so expertly ?
Where are you now, tears that so quickly dried ?
Or death, which was to prove you would abide
By oath of love and solemn loyalty ?
Or did you seek from malice to delude,
Slavery by pretending servitude ?
Forgive the thought, this once, my dearest one,
When grief and anger fiercely combine;
I know, wherever you may have gone,
Your martyrdom is as harsh as mine.
Louise Labe's Other Poems
Read this poem in other languages
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
Comments about this poem (Sonnet XXIII by Louise Labe )
The Road Not Taken
If You Forget Me
Still I Rise
Edgar Allan Poe
Stopping by Woods on a Snowy Evening
I Know Why The Caged Bird Sings
William Ernest Henley
- Stasying the Course, John F. McCullagh
- Preposterous, Alem Hailu Gabre Kristos
- The Little Wood, Ruth Manning-Sanders
- The Moral Roundabout, Ruth Manning-Sanders
- The Old Wheelwright, Ruth Manning-Sanders
- The Idiot Girl, Ruth Manning-Sanders
- All the Steps, John Taggart
- Heimdall, Ruth Manning-Sanders
- Orange Berries Dark Green Leaves, John Taggart
- Horses To Market, Ruth Manning-Sanders