Beautiful forever
There is a mannequin, in the dark corner of
the hall, showing off a swimsuit 1950 style.
She is beautiful, in her own eyes,
which are made of coloured glass...sea green.
Dust on lips she doesn't care, not of the sultry type,
show no interest, in sexual matters.
Spooks guests, when they have gone, she smiles
in her image that is forever 1950.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem
A mannequin in a particular swimsuit has nicely been portrayed. The personification here is quite interesting. Thanks, Oskar.