His tender feeling,
Touches the pure heart.
Taking IVANA,
To the top of the chart.
She behaves,
Sometimes,
Like a child,
In her blissful offspring.
But sometimes,
She presents herself,
As curator,
In the garb of crony's self.
Her words strike,
His kernel very deeply.
Compelling him to think,
About life's secret, sacredly.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem