The black-haired girls are graceful, like gazelles,
Their haughty stares would strike a ‘lao wai' blind,
As they cruise on through streets, where rubbish spills,
Ignoring all, the poverty, the slime.
In knee high boots and skirts that lift the thigh,
In leathers, black, and frills and pretty lace,
They swing their hips so slowly, to invite
The dreams of men, who marvel at each face.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.I would like to translate this poem