To the white forest of emotions and,
To the black forest of love;
But Sheva is your name and,
One day you will fly up high like a kite.
You've got everything but,
The rain dropa are like the tears on your face;
So, how calm are the pillows of your love?
Commitmment and faithfulness,
Mercy and loving-kindness;
But the fruit of your tree is measured by your muse!
For a virtuous woman is the crown of the husband.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem