Hands folded primly,
Hair falling properly;
Delicate background.
Delicate skin –
What about the secret within?
What lies behind those shining eyes,
Those eyes gleaming like wine at the bottom of a glass,
Sparkling in the light, darkly and...
Mysteriously?
What is your secret, Mona Lisa?
What is your secret?
With your lips upturned saucily,
You must be thinking of something naughty.
Your body is gentle; your pose is polite,
But your smile, Mona Lisa!
Your smile!
You are a not a lifeless painting,
You have created yourself!
Your liberal attitude, your free mind,
It’s all yours –
Not Davinci’s!
You peer about the museum,
Watching,
Knowing,
What lies in everyone’s skeleton hearts.
You see what everyone doesn’t.
You know.
Why won’t you tell?
What is your secret, Mona Lisa?
What is your secret?
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem
I really enjoy your style of writing and word choice. very impressive