She sat there, like the others, having tea,
it seemed she held her cup a different way,
not like the others, it was clear to see.
She smiled, it almost hurt, but once that day.
When they arose and started talking
meandering through rooms, as if by chance,
I looked at her, they laughed as she was walking,
she followed them, too slowly, as in trance.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.I would like to translate this poem