How fair is this sweet Flower of the Moon
with custard eyes that make you swoon
and eye lids of white with an enticing flutter
making the senses stagger and stutter
meadows abound with their graceful stance
as she leads the grass in a merry dance
there is none sweeter than Marguerite
when she adorns the ground around your feet.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem