She is six years old.
Without lessons,
she twirls around the room
like a Russian ballerina,
and moves her hips
like a chorine
from the Follies Bergere
She wears my high heels,
and wraps herself in my old shawls
with the expertise of a Paris couturier.
Who taught her that woman’s laugh,
those seductive glances?
She is six years old,
and she knows, in her bones,
the secrets of a woman.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem
secret of a woman, I like it. thanks.