Time wears your heart on its sleeve,
And age with your face, can't deceive;
Beauty and charm, the gift to disarm-
As years pass, your assets will leave.
Grace bears your form on its back,
When troubles and pains do attack;
When love, as a friend, and patience attend-
You will hardly notice the lack.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem