The mirror reflects a face
Without a dropp of grace
It’s cuddled beneath fear
And concealed making no clear
It lacked a touch of zeal
A look so numb to feel
It cried for ever fancied love
And peace with two a dove
Her eyes were flushed with tears
Dreary, scornful fears
She looks further ashamed
For a dispute washed behind a tale
Her pain scribbles her face
Lost in a musing daze
Cursed by her veiled beauty
She reflects her regretted lapse
She looks alone and frail
Faked, sad and pale
She is weeping, she is sighing
She is screaming, she is dying
This mirror, a cursed mail
Opening a floor of tales
It quivers when I look in
And this mirror…
It reflects me
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem
beautiful lines nia...