I recall that trip to Paris
I went buying, Fur Skin
I was told: 'downstairs'
Wide and red were steps
I turned left had a look
Unaware, fitting room
Door open and light on
One woman naked wild
Her breasts in mirror
Her buttocks in my eye
Feet flipped, legs flopped
Too sick I, wanted drugs
'God please what is this? '
I shouted voicelessly.
Memories are sometimes
Too fresh, as if alive
Who was she but angel?
God sent her for my eye.
Look at waves and skies
The same with hair, skin
Admire the God's gift
Be careful not to drift
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem