Before my marriage
I used to dream,
Dream colourfully
With the unknown mistress of love,
Walking hand-in-hand, heart-in-heart
Flanking together with
A girl not
But a beauty
With the dreamy and magical eyes,
Glistening in the sunbeam,
A blonde golden
Catching my thought and idea,
Imagery and reflection,
That she would be a damsel
Stepping on earth
With the anklets resounding.
But came she the girl made for me,
As pre-determined and pre-destined,
Made for each other,
The girl of my dreams
Reversing the aspiration
And god feeling of mine,
A critical and screwed woman,
So shrewd and crooked
Going not at my words,
Powdered and creamed so much
At the day of her marriage,
But the reality far from,
She not so beautiful
As I think, feel it now
After marrying her,
You have heard me,
You please hear her too
Taking her experience.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem