does beauty have a name?
that we behold and claim,
that one could be and another not?
if we held the flesh fleeting skin would it not reveal its decay?
what do we do when it fades away,
like leaves on a winter's day,
we lack words to say,
only a memory of it in our minds it stay
like passaing times we turn to forget important things
only praises of beauty that one sings
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem