She is sensuality
She is permanent and cold.
She is all reality,
Depicted young but ages old
Her hands are stuff but nimble.
Her figure still but living
And undying hopfull symbol
Of providence and of forgiving.
She stands in fading likeness,
Exposed to elements unbound.
She fades just like the mem'ry
Of love I left unfound.
I see here every evening
A fixture seeming fair.
She stirs my mind and feelings,
Then I pass by and leave her there.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem
William, such a well expressed poem👍👍👍