The naked woman you see
Is just a water orint
She has no clour and no creed
She is tired of her fire of beauty
She is now sleeping
On the arms of the poet.
She is not a form
The poet created her
For the readers interested in
my poetry
I created her
with unique breasts and hips
The way God crteates woman
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem