BURMA

I made a bitter song

When I was a boy,

About a girl

With hot earth-coloured hair,

Who lived with me

And left me.

I made a sour song

On her marriage-day,

That ever his kisses

Would be ghosts of mine,

And ever the measure

Of his halting love

Flow to my music.

It was a silly song,

Dear wife with cool black hair,

And yet when I recall

(At night with you asleep)

That once you gave yourself

Before we met,

I do not quite well know

What song to make.

From the Burmese (nineteenth century) (¿ by Asmapur).