Thesauros Edebiyat elegy Amores

Amores

Amores Ovid 43 B.C.-17 or 18 A.D

Şiir 11

 
But time, while I am speaking, flies: be sure
 
To give the billet in a leisure hour:
 
Don't be content with her imperfect view,
 
But make her, when she has it, read it through.
 
I charge thee, as she reads, observe her eyes, 25
 
Catch, if thou canst, her gentle looks and sighs;
 
As these are sure presages of my joy,
 
So frowns and low'rs my flattering hopes destroy.
 
Pray her, when she has read it, to indite
 
An answer, and a long epistle write. 30
 
I hate a billet, where at once I view
 
A page all empty, but a line or two.
 
Let her without a margin fill it up,
 
And crowd it from the bottom to the top.
 
But why should I her pretty fingers tire? 35
 
A word's enough, and all that I desire.
 
Ah, Nape, let her only bid me come;
 
The page is large, which for that word has room.
 
Her letter, like a conqu'ror's, shall be bound
 
With bays, for it with conquests shall be crown'd. 40
← Önceki Şiir 11 · 2 / 2 Sonraki bölüm →

Agora Sokakları

Üyelik

Dil ve Tema

Dil Seçimi
TR EN
Tema Seçimi