When you walk into the ball room
All heads - young, old, middle age- turn toward you
When you walk with me under the full moon
the moon hides behind the darkest clouds
When they look at your face, they forget their lovers
and ask their lusting hearts how could you be their lover
When they see you walk in grace with a little swing at your hips
their pants start making tents to offer them cool shades
When they hear you say anything, even in anger
it is music to their ears, you voice, their hunger
When in your bikini, you lounge at the beach
people say- what mounds, what curves, what shades
Near the ocean in this fragrant fresh spring breeze
the most beautiful woman in the world is here, here.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem