Your face is smiling due to age,
My age will erupt in your face
And show laughter as well, like a page;
May the gods turn over their airspace.
My face appears brilliantly, losing us,
Opening us and closing us like a project,
We facially admire descriptions of you and fieriness,
In the ways of a collection of pictures, the aspect.
Let smiling be an accusation,
One of the accuracies to abandon.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem