They moved with such perfection
those mannequins, slender and fine,
showing the clothes so graciously
in the years of roses and wine.
Along the catwalk, floating on air
to the latest musical beat,
in silken gowns and gorgeous furs
elegant, stylish and sweet.
But where are those lovely girls today
where have those flowers gone?
Are they just a sepia picture that
stays on the mind like a twilight song?
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem