Beauty sing in rhythm
of love, peace and passion.
Yet no one care to listen
as her soul unleash joy.
She's the heart of many giants
a resourceful treasure to
many hunters, but she's trapped.
She is with a dying expression
to reveal it's worth and value
but without avalanche to fly.
So, tell me what is beauty
without my African nature?
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem