I am passing through the Valley of Tears but,
Smooth as butter are the words of your mouth;
And your beauty shall be consumed in the grave one day.
Aliens in spirit,
And like a snail melting in the sun without love;
But be exalted to what you have because,
Your traps are like the venom of serpents in the bush.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem