Like matches, they catch fire easily in your eyes,
Like skyscrapers face to face, they take you up onto cloud nine,
Like chopsticks, they carry something tasty and make you water;
And you cannot strike, scrape or suck'em.
It's just she's bending, stretching, and crossing her long, slender and crane-like legs.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem