you say,
Stone walls surround the desert of your heart,
where desire once bloomed.
You say,
no more the waters of Felicity run,
her wells are dry.
You say,
the lines of age, carve deep clefts,
so now the mirror derides your ravaged face.
You say,
the glory of your hair has whitened
Thin as a winter tree.
But I say,
I see what's inside and to me you are always beautiful.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem