My sister that New Year was sixteen, a naive civilian:
Her cheeks just began to grow rosy, her lips vermilion;
Her eyes symbolized the azure sky, her heart a green bud;
Her soul was filled with warmth, the spring sun lifeblood.
Although she was only sixteen,
So many guys had already dreamed of a wedding scene.
And many a virtuous mother even had wished pride
Of having her as hopefully her son's well-behaved bride.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.I would like to translate this poem