It's a round table,
With two shadows,
That, s lost in magic.
It's four hands,
That hold each other,
When in a storm.
It's a strong heart,
That's slowly melting,
Growing healthy of infatuation.
It's a naked look,
Without any shame,
That sees beyond pearls.
It's a virgin smile,
With hope its only flame,
That burns internally.
It's the pain,
That comes with love,
That dries with make up.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem