She will arrive one day in a gesture of love,
gentle as a dawn dew, cool like a light rain,
The rays of the sun will be on your cheeks,
The whirr of the breeze in her tone of talk,
in a elegant pose with a hill-flower elegance.
She will appear, with slim, open arms,
A bearing of the head no sculptor has caught
And nuance bearing with eyes and lips, ,
Her face in a pass-and-reposes of moods
As many as skies in a fragile change.
(C) WILLIAMSJI MAVELI
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem