She moves like a whisper in the night,
soft and certain,
a presence that lingers long after she is gone.
Light gathers in her eyes,
not just from the sun,
but from something deeper,
something unspoken.
When she speaks,
the world leans to listen.
When she smiles,
the moment slows,
as if time itself does not wish to go on without her.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem