I know her.
Once she was a young beauty
but now she's an old woman.
Once she was full of hot rising sap
but now it's dried and cool.
I know her.
Once she ran in the woods and laughed
but now she's slow and stiff.
I know her,
in the mirror,
and sometimes
in dreams
at night
she not only looks gorgeous,
she makes love and
laughs and runs and sings out loud
and sometimes
she even flies.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem