Time's Punishment

You're proud, my beauty! If I say " Good-day"
You lift your brows in scorn and fling away;
While if I hang a garland at your door
With angry foot you stamp it to the floor.
Ah, time alone such temper can assuage;
Come quick, ye Wrinkles, quick, remorseless Age.
Translation: 
Language: 
Author of original: 
Rufinus
Rate this poem: 

Reviews

No reviews yet.