Woman, with that mystic smile,
Do you trace life's footsteps?
Do you still dwell in wonderland,
Shyly basking in its magical glow?
Do you still believe in phantoms,
Silently moving along the wall?
Or do you still sulk within your shell,
Beyond the reach of a fingertip?
Breath deeply and come to life,
Glide with the flowing rivulet,
Sway with the listless breeze,
And intermingle with the masses.
Frail, yet a force to reckon with,
Soft, yet a firm, enduring pillar,
You are an ever-present fragrance,
To cheer a sad, downtrodden heart.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem