In May, we explore the golden age of Spanish poetry. Today part of Tomorrow by Lope de Vega.
Lord, what am I, that with unceasing care
Thou did’st seek after me, that Thou did’st wait
Wet with unhealthy dews before my gate,
And pass the gloomy nights of winter there?
Oh, strange delusion, that I did not greet
Thy blest approach, and oh, to Koho how lost
If my ingratitude’s unkindly frost
Has chilled the bleeding wounds upon Thy feet.
Feel free to be inspired by our Koho (CA) offer with 15$ payout, like Spanish poet was.
