Who doesn't care beauty?
Not a single one if we count.
Who cares the mind's beauty?
A few, hardly they can be found.
We worship the beauty of face,
the uniqueness in all.
Rare, is their number,
Eyes, still always roll,
in search of gracious lady,
guys try their best.
Finally, they choose and marry,
the beautiful one better than rest,
but, never stop watching ladies,
they never call strike,
in matter of swallowing, the
beauty I think they like.
They are not satisfied with,
the beauty of their home.
They prefer, queens of other kings,
For that they ever roam.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem
Arresting and appealing. Superb