Her hair
Nothing; but bag of gold
In air, they dance; swing, float
Her eyes
Ocean, with countless waves
The ship, a wreck; capsized, drowned
Her face
A sun also a peach, has bony cheeks
Her lips, petals of rose in pond
Her size
Great, Venus in legs and hip and waist
On chest orange, firm and fresh
“Can she be mine? ”
On every mind
Young men are dogs in the desert
Words come; stop
Behind her lips
Her mouth a hive, honey to lick
She knows and them
(Interpreters)
She is mute
One takes the notes
Two do the talks
For her here, to do the walks
Into school
And going back
To tomorrows, round the clock
If she knew
The rest of world
In her place, she’d feel lucky.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem