Oddly
Beauty requests nothing of us.
It's the homely beast, the uncomely woman,
the ill-favored child—
these are the ones who want to be
the swans of fairy tales,
the betês turned to princes.
Beauty only sits, static, wonderful
dreaming whipped cream dreams
and watching prodigious visions.
Like deer watching water,
calliope music over the water.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem