Grandmother Poem by Olesya Maksimenko
Grandmother
Her sallow face I like the more,
Her hallow cheeks I kiss,
I wear the dresses that she wore,
It’s her I always miss.
She still believes that God exists,
She’s good at fortune-telling.
When we’re talking, she insists
That I’ll soon get married.
She always laughs at her shuffling gate,
She likes to talk a lot.
She always says: “It’s never late
To start again a life-plot”.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem
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5/21/2024 11:42:01 PM # 1.0.0.1119
