Paste green painted paper
In layers above the skin,
Then shade it in hues desired
For a face that’s worth a fortune.
Touch it and it crumbles,
Rub it and it smears,
My face of many colours,
Which I hide behind,
My face of many colours,
That cracks when I cry.
Stained glass and broken light,
Dappled splashes rainbow the surfaces,
Shadows in a darkened view
Blurs what’s really there.
Touch it and it crumbles,
Rub it and it smears,
My face of many colours,
Whose details I draw in,
My face of many colours,
To cover up my skin.
Behind the mask in eyesight,
Shut to see the truth,
Smiling in calm serenity
And glowing in the moonlight.
Touch it and it crumbles,
Rub it and it smears,
My face of many colours,
I take off every night,
My face of many colours,
Which I look beautiful without.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem
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