Look in the mirror and what do you see?
This is your golden time, your early spring
A dew-fresh face, peachy and wrinkle free
You are sweetest rosebud near blooming
Your sparkling dark eyes of the deepest blue
are a hidden sea by Nature painted.
Your luscious berried lips of blushing hue
are with gentle lovers not acquainted.
Your vernal looks recall your mother's prime
Beguiling, fair and lovely was she then
Before she faced the whips and scorns of time
But winter's ragged hand will come again
To your daughter make your beauty's bequest
Let her and this poem be death's conquest.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem