He combed the hair
gently, softly
cupping a handful
running his fingers through
straightening his back
knitting his eyebrows
efforts to make it seem effortless
the free flow of jet black hair
freshly coloured
She turned to him
and he smiled in reply
picked up a band
tied a bun.
Eyes distraught
hands cold, rigid
they held her tight
and pressed hard
untie! untie!
Freeing herself
past clucking tongues, muttering
She snipped off the bun
a thick mass of hair
an offering
into the coffin she placed
the pharaoh sleeps
a precious jewel by his side
Crowned in death! ! ! !
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem