At Avon from richest time words sprung
To hear with heart what bard's heart hath write
And like swarm of dreams spake by his tongue
To delight age's ear and to defeat time's might
But we time's fools looks but with disdain
Upon ourselves when to the Bard compared
Yet within thy words we indulged remain
Memorized, rehearsed, recalled and stared
O dear behold thy name in Times like these
Immortalized, lovely, fresh and green
And behold rhymes for thee in Time increase
but none as thine to comfort our spleen
Time is our compeller, for thee is but a slave
that thou disdainth, and him for thee doth crave
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem