Towards the low stream waters flow.
A woman gains by quietude,
A gentle smile, solicitude.
She opens like a scented flower
To which the male is bound to hover,
Yielding to her subtle power.
And who shall say it is not so?
And who shall say it is not so!
Towards the low stream waters flow.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem