A broad rejuvenating sight lies beneath the spectacles,
Every healing sound leaps out of chocolaty hurdles.
Every foot-step is taken,
to transform the potter-place heaven.
The swing of her waist is one,
which makes the wind to feel jealous of
her gratitude she owns.
Whenever done deeds are done,
to cover-up the mistakes of poor world.
A lady which always swings me in her cradle.
the black silk-knot on the back of head is one,
which makes her the world's best formal.
The every breath is born from her heart and bubbled,
through her unseized teeth-guards, to dissolve
every stone in her sweet liquiral.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem