The curve tells a story,
The twinkle sings a song.
Fresh as the first drop of dew on a winter morning,
Peaceful as death, but full of life.
In a world of despair, it gives hope,
In a world of trends, it's a classic.
Painting the soul with sunshine,
Your infectious smile makes mine.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem