It described such a face,
smiling to him-as often it did it.
In its imagination, as with at school,
carried this uniform of the street Mary Magdelene'
a white button to the top of shirt maker
and a skirt of plaid blue and gray-and although it was the same uniform other girls carried,
it was there had always been, for him,
something different about the manner
bushed it;
fairest complextioned she supplemented.
Sand in the glass, seconds were like years.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem