Her face is that of marble, defiant and unchanging, a face so strong and true you could never picture ageing. Her skin of steel and flowers a gentle mix of strength and grace, the beauty of her being puts me in a wonderous place. Her voice is like an angel singing sonnets through the day, her beauty oh her beauty I just don't know what to say. Her manners are so gentle her gate a somber stride, any time I see her I always come alive. The likeness of an angel the demenoir of a saint, the completeness of this woman is bound to make me faint. when you put all these in a woman oh so fair, only to the gods may her beauty be compared.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem