Şiir 62
Unto the flock unknown and ne’er uptorn by the ploughshare,
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Soothed by the zephyrs and strengthened by suns and nourish’t by showers
Loves her many a youth and longs for her many a maiden:
Yet from her lissome stalk when cropt that flower deflowered,
Loves her never a youth nor longs for her ever a maiden:
Thus while the virgin be whole, such while she’s the dearling of kinsfolk;
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Yet no sooner is lost her bloom from body polluted,
Neither to youths she is joy, nor a dearling she to the maidens.
Hymen O Hymenaeus, Hymen here, O Hymenaeus!
E’en as an unmated vine which born in field of the barest
Never upraises head nor breeds the mellowy grape-bunch,
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But under weight prone-bowed that tender body a-bending
Makes she her root anon to touch her topmost of tendrils;
Tends her never a hind nor tends her ever a herdsman:
Yet if haply conjoined the same with elm as a husband,
Tends her many a hind and tends her many a herdsman:
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Thus is the maid when whole, uncultured waxes she aged;
But whenas union meet she wins her at ripest of seasons,
More to her spouse she is dear and less she’s irk to her parents.
Hymen O Hymenaeus, Hymen here, O Hymenaeus!