She suffers in shame
Though they think she has none.
But then, who ever would ever guess.
She smiles too well.
The things we do for love.
Regret? No, she doesn't regret.
Nor will she forget
How he tenderly held her face in his hands.
For that moment alone she will sell her soul.
Has sold it whole.
The things she does for love, or something like it.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem
Love it is a particular affection and the poem is so nice.