Heart of a maid
hips of lovely strides
snaking our thoughts
the breasts
the thighs
the plunging trips
they are the pictures
of your youth
kindling the desire to mate
and senses to consummate
dont give up
dont give up
it is simply the song of life
music lingers long after the end.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem