Epigram

O Diodorus, in a storm of spring,
My love is striving on a restless sea;
For now thy eyes are charged with rain, and next they fling
Glances serene abroad, and laugh most tenderly.
As one who shipwrecked on the sea's fierce whirl,
I strive to mount the waves, which o'er me swirl,
But lo! the storm drives on yet wantonly.
On friendship's rock or hate's, I pray me throw,
So in which sea I swim my heart may know.
Translation: 
Language: 
Author of original: 
Unknown
Rate this poem: 

Reviews

No reviews yet.