He Had Not Dreamt of A Beautiful Wife,
But Got He, But See The Irony of Fate,
I Didn't Inspite of My Earnest Longing
When I compare my ladylove with that of his, think I,
What had I thought about and dreamt of
And what has it come out?
Lo, he had not imagined about a beautiful girl as his love
But instead, see the irony of fate,
Destiny or good luck,
Whatever call you,
Came she a beautiful wife for him!
And see the case of mine, I thought about and dreamt of
A very beautiful and lovely wife
And she came to me not,
Got I a not-so-much fair and fine
And what it troubles me most,
Apart from this, that she quarrels with me all the time.
O God, what to do, what to do, save, save,
Save Mr. Dubey
From his self-centred wife,
Selfish and parochial,
A Delilah of Samson or Lamia of Keats,
Helen of Dr. Faustus,
King Lear's daughter, she is my wife!
Though the other man's love always beautiful,
Not mine,
But instead of this lacuna, I envy his fate
As fate getting a beautiful wife
In her face-cutting not,
But by nature too.
See that blackie, he had not imagined, nor had he dreamt of
And got he a beautiful girl in return,
Excellent, marvellous wife for him
And I instead, traversing the river of the Hell
With my wife
In extreme reprimand, scold and backbiting
And this is what I expect and get from her
And this you may take it as my bouquet and brickbat from her. |
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