The morning train to Dublin
Carrying me comfortably;
Fascinated by a lady’s face
In the hand mirror she held
Firm and close in front of her.
Eye to eye in an even look
Before a facial restoration,
She commenced in earnest
With deft hand movements
Brushing on to hide or blush;
Eyebrows get her attention-
Swift strokes to left and right;
Then eye shadow is applied
Before descending to her lips,
Pursed for a pale pink lipstick;
Glazing over with a little finger
After she starts to soft brush,
Powder puffing high and low
For a finish to her work of art.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem
Tres bien..teta-tete...very feelings escalating passion