Note: The poem below tends to indicate a modern impression of the poet, trying to stop the beast ( from the fairytale - beauty and the beast ) in the moment when belle agrees to love her back, despite the fact he's a beast.
I had once heard the story of a beauty and a beast ,
And here remains my heart in its solitude and despair to exclaim my soulful words to the beast who bestows his love for belle ,
Beast oh Beast!
Tell me where lays the fancy love thou promised to thine belle in this world of darkness, where is the river of fleurs thee promised thine beloved?
oh, dear beast,
Thou thyself is thee destructeur of thine love,
Ye the beasty-mind is foolish, the heart did know where you stand in front of her dim days and darkest of darkest nights.
I ask thee , what love is to you if the soul cease to expect? What love is, if thou gast to define what thee deserve but move on to sacrifices. Thee know it is love? The heavens are to blame!
How thou know she is the one you're ready to promise the rosily soul to? What love is, if you cannot shrift how much the distance matters still? The heavens are to blame!
What love is ? Oh beast !
Thou are no where worthily confident about thine beloved lady , thou is an unpregnant , zany and immature soul, for when she needs you like a shield.
What love is to you , if you stop dreaming about her eyes, her curls and picture "thee will be us still ' and she could be thine someday ' , how it is thine love when you don't believe in thine soul-mate is humane but believe thine rash mind more than her words,
oh beast ! thine'r not ready to give judicious chances but thou drop despairs on her delicate shoulders. Have thou, cherished her enough?
Thine'r tired to live but she aint. Thee escape thine curse but let her drown in her mind elsewhere, where it is brightly-gloomy. Have thee, the mightiest of mighty beast, praised thine beloved with the words of shimmer and true thoughts? Have thee, the great beast, held her comfort and past scars on thine heart of rose as thine's? The tears that crawl down her eyes, are thee the reason....
What love is , thine'r in salad days , when thee know it's never gonna be the same even though you promise a fresh beginning but you never begin furthermore. The person you love keeps expecting and you always disappoint them like a storm on the daylight.
Wherefore thou build bridges of reasons, quake priorities, always expect but never the right reasons, never the right priorities and never the right expectations, trying to attach and only know to never let go but hesitates to improve from the bottom of hearts.
What love is, if thou don't chase thine old memories and stop them to chase their own too.Thou didn't deserve her when you cannot allow her to be herself in your heart.
A bond where holiness thrives to the fullest with happiness, is how Adam and Eve dreamt of humanity!
Oh dear beast ! How it is love when you know when to stop her but cannot express your little coils with like a reward she looks for, with the patience, with the reason when she knows that thee don't know much about her!
For reference use the dictionary below:
https://reference.yourdictionary.com/translation/shakespeare-translator.html