The rusty pincers she holds
With shivering fingers
And she plucks her grey hair
Here & there
She noticed in the eye brows too
few appears?
Dark rings below the eyes
And wrinkles on her forehead.
She smiles with the mirror
And mutters; 'No change at all the secret smile
But what happened to my youthful Elasticity? '
She realized for the first time in her life
That mirrors too speak sometimes?
'Madam! I am there with you
even in your fleeing beauty? '
*[God made woman from man's rib-not from his head to top him, nor from his feet to be walked upon, but from his side to be his partner in life, from under his arm to be protected by him, and near his heart to be loved by him.]
nimal dunuhinga
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem