Give her pearls and she'll hide behind them
like she doesn't know the world. Use their beauty
to cover her scars. No one knows who you are,
no one knows what's inside. You'd think she's so
typically, normally there- predictable, intelligent,
but nothing special to remember. No one knows
who you are, no one notices the scars. Predictable,
typical, so happily normal are none of what she is.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem