Beta

β
beta

Where, then, should I go to allay love’s pain
When mind and will it so cruelly commands
This painful torment, rending breast in twain
Can not be quenched, can neither be disarmed.
Would that my eyes had never fixed their gaze
On vampish brown eyes, on fair olive skin.
Now I am vanquished; poor heart you’ve been razed
Your world has gone dark, and gloom has set in.
But can this be “love”, I ask you, young man,
That leaves you rejected and bankrupt so.
Now empty inside you will understand
‘True’ love delivers; and so time will show.
Beware the promise that passion recites:
‘The girl you will have, for this is your right.’

Friday 7th July, 2006, Cambridge