Her dress is of an amber hue,
Her blush is of a shy coquette.
She trails along the stream of blue,
Her pretty feet half-wet.
Her raven locks are in a queue
Of jade and pink to quell
The wavering wisteria
That lines the avenue.
Her educate is proper, well
Bred, redolent with ambrosia.
Her fingers are clad with many rings;
She is most attentive to those things
Which catch the attention of bards like me,
Captured
And enraptured-
By her visual soliloquy.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem