The Nurse

Alas, that hate should bar our whispers sweet,
The stolen looks wherein our eyes would meet.
Your jealous nurse still makes us both afraid,
Like Argus watching o'er the heifer maid.
Stand there and spy; you vex yourself in vain;
No eye, old hag, can reach the soul's domain.
Translation: 
Language: 
Author of original: 
Paulus Silentiarius
Rate this poem: 

Reviews

No reviews yet.