Once vanity somehow managed
To reach the cliff where lies the attic
Through the gorges and blind allies
Before glittering in pride she became sick
There she saw all around scattered
In abundance scarcity of elegance and wit
Before she fell from the height of a hill
I told her she was really at bottom of a pit
She did not go anywhere actually she was
Kept blind folded where she was
And could not have any idea of reality
In darkness she thought it was her great rise.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem