splendid
was her laugh.
splendid
was her touch.
and all that she loved
grew splendidly
upon the earth.
but things got worse
she lovingly fell apart
lost as they say
through the deserted sky of December.
December
did never seem
a far thought
from those beggars who dreamed.
For she was not rich!
But those who dreamed
felt blessed to come across
her splendid self.
but now nowhere
would you see
a girl sitting splendidly
as she.
upon the wooden bench
of a long lost memory,
of once seen by many
splendidly,
in the month of December.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem