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France Preseren - A Wreath Of Sonnets (9/14)
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They were all fed on many a plaint and tear
The humble blooms on my Parnassus grown; 
My tears of love flowed not for you alone, 
But also for the land I hold so dear.

My soul was filled with bitterness and fear 
At love so scant to a trusting Mother shown; 
The thought that no more love from you I`ve known 
Torments and tears me like a wound severe.

All the reward I wished for was that you 
With me a poet`s timeless fame might share 
That native songs our poignant tale might bear;

That all Slovenes should waken and that true 
Content and joy might come. Despite my care, 
Frail growth these blossoms had, so sad and few.
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