She walks in beauty, eyes soft,
Innocent; silky breast that captures
men’s heart, her alarming whiteness,
making angels turn dark.
In times of sorrow, she's the light; if she
cries, her tears breakdown into drops of
divine moist. Wrapped in her skin, never
has a sin, her lips turn to fear in
the eyes of evil. Her sacred presence makes earth
heavenly; her beauty blinds the power of vision,
her virtuous is an envious, making instinct
jealousy take over. She walks in beauty.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.I would like to translate this poem