Beauty rests quietly,
in the gaze that lingers,
in the heart that pauses,
seeing not just the surface
but the shadows and light,
the softness and scars.
It blooms where it's welcomed,
alive in the simple noticing,
the silent recognition
of something true,
unseen by most,
yet wholly there.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem