Her eyes were perplex purple,
Into which you could submerge an ocean,
Her face beholden her profound beauty,
Impossible to fathom all at once,
The carters of snow rested upon her eyeslashes,
She was a pedestal for snow,
She herself rested upon fire and ice,
The queen of all nights, an ever glow,
Should you not taste the icy fire,
For it burns you black, it burns you chill,
Should you not try to impress the queen of dungeon,
Built for lovers she sentences them herself with quill.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem