She painted
her face:
Dark Sea Green
from chin to eyebrows;
above the eyebrow,
White Green Yellow;
the eye sockets,
with a lighter Turquoise.
I asked her:
'Is it a party? '
she said:
'I want to be
a be
that itches'
to night.
do you have
problem with that? '
I said
'No, you will be
what you are thought to be.'
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem