Yon dairy-air...
Is lustly round, i swear.
Yon beauty, is by far, above all, that, be fair...
Yon cascading fiery billowy, is thy hair.
Yon's hand in mairrage, is all that-I care...
Yon's bluest pooled eyes, that in, I do constanly stare.
Next to yon, in eternity, is thy place...
by me, to be there, as only do I care.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem