They say that your hair is greying
But they are wrong, my love
For your face is the moon,
Your long dark hair is the night
and those are streams of moonlight.
They say that you have dark circles
But they are wrong, beloved
They are but twilights beneath your lashes,
A gift from the night.
They say that you are weak
But they are wrong, my treasure
Just like the new day
You will rise and shine.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem