Daily she looks at the mirror
gaze at her beauty, her nostril ring,
her ear ring, lashes of her eyes
her petal like lips, her cheeks
her long hair deeper than cloud
her mountainous breast, deer eyes
her waist more essorant and eccentric
and above all she sees her heart
her heart looks like blank paper.
When she walks, breeze feels her warmth
when she speaks cuckoo is ashamed
when she laughs her laugher resonate
anoints the wounds of flower
but when she stands before mirror
mirror grasp her in her bosom
it thrills like agitated water.
The mirror speaks her all beauty
that dwells in solitude of Minerva.
The reflections in the mirror tells us a lot. Nice work.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem
Your poem is a good mirror. A beautiful work.