They called you a nun while you studied,
You really look like a saint,
You stand in angelic white jacket
And sing, deep absorbed in yourself.
Your eyesight embodies a prayer,
And even when you are- Carmen,
It doesn’t bring pain, burns or slays you
But everything to us donates.
Not vampire you are but a donor,
And the Main was killed at the Cross,
His Cross Is the voice whose performance
Is always and everywhere heard.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem