She walked daintily down the steps,
The charm she holds,
The sensuous petals opening in dawn….
The dews sprinkled in the cold.
They say beauty is in the eyes of beholder,
And your demeanor a delicate thing,
The glimpse of your guileless countenance
The hand hefty beneath the weeding-ring.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem
I think indian including bangladesh and pakistan have made all effort to decor woman from head to toes. beautiful.