I can never wear my yellow skirt again
Twirling around my ankles
I can never tie my hair up again
Or draw out sidelocks like bangles.
I look pretty only when I smile
I hardly smile these days
Lipstick, powder and rouge
None look pretty on my face.
It appears extra ordinarily odd
When lovers send me bouquets
Flowers no longer suit me
Neither do chocolate cakes.
It is surprising how I aged
When your love was gone
My yellow skirt lies in my cupboard
Its pretty yellow colour gone.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.I would like to translate this poem