The tune you played it ran so sweetly
I was sure Time himself had stopped
dead in his tracks to greet me
And let believe all the while my soul
had been enslaved
Such was the relief to my heart that it
gave;
Holier than the sight of monasteries
crouched in secluded valleys
Sweeter than the song of the bird in
the green Summer's tree
So sweet was it that it opened a
thousand as yet unsavoured dreams
And had my mind rest easy on the
cool wind
Which swept over their prosperous
seas.
II
The tune you played brought calm
upon a boisterous evening
Though Sorrow came to me
When I saw you finish and leave the
centre stage
For I had thought I might live forever
under your enchanting spell
Far from the world in peace and
harmony
With Love kept, not left weeping
Far from the wakening hour
From that chore of modern empty
living;
It was by far the sweetest tune
It released this fellow songbird from
his cage
And it all seemed like glorious Heaven
these brief moments spent
For he who had longed always to be
free.
Translated from the
original Latin of
Emperor Nero circa
40 AD (his later
period).
Used to read old Irish poetry Thomas Moore, James Clarence Mangan. This was a kind of homage. The Nero bit was a joke.