There she stood,
Alone on the beach.
Her Chestnut hair,
Waving in the breeze.
She wore a flowing gown,
Made of blue silk.
The colour,
A perfect match for her eyes.
She was sad,
You could see it in her face.
Her mouth,
Inexpressive,
Impassive,
Or at least it seemed so.
As the light faded,
So did she.
From thought, mind, memory.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem