A husband and his wife

Oh! once my eyes like the moon wide stared,
for my bones not as new at night chaffed,
when grazed your thighs spark I my gray wares,
that your soul loathed me for curbed much laughs?

joy true it brings no date, nor need high,
since fall, thus your fields, boon does not buy?
nor do you grab, dance, pull, kiss, nor sing,
not moved by naught, tame, the heart wrings.

Ah! how I glare still with a ripe sight,
twixt my belt of straws in tears I fight,
to keep those faults that ways lead unto ways,
in my mind I chose no text to shrive.
"For, I -"
yet mouth rushed with time, no noise did trot.