Beneath the veil, a mirror shines, divine and rare,
Like morning's first soft light, a dream so fair.
How can mere words narrate this endless grace?
This timeless beauty, unmatched in any space.
Her lips, her glance, her bangles in a gentle sway,
Each fleeting moment births love's new display.
Her henna glows, moonlight in its crimson hue,
Her dreamy form, a muse both bold and true.
Wherever her gaze falls, spring begins to bloom,
Who is she, this marvel, who lights the room?
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem