A small ring in her nose she does hold,
On the eyes an oblong glass,
In my office parking I use to behold
She is an awfully cute and simple lass.
In her task be as busy as a honey-bee,
Unaware of one who furtively in leisure
Beholds her innocence and simplicity,
And enjoys an indefinable pleasure.
Of the day she has often been
The first thought, and the last sweet dream
Of the night; her arts are untold, unseen-
Of the nature's beauty she's a fantastic theme.
She's a cool feeling in the summer of June,
And the hot wind's below in winter hoar;
Her beautiful face is like the shining moon,
That does often knock at my heart's door.
A plenty of days, weeks are past,
And I had no glimpse of her-
But the heart still beats loud and fast
Missing that fabulous creation of the Nature.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem