Bride face
Her skin was brown
The same with hair and gown
And on four, always walked.
She was far above words
"Beauty" and "Bride, "
As are meant and defined.
With same name she was called:
"You, with face of bride."
Yes! Truly she was…
Most of all, she walked tall
When coming or depart.
She was too special
Far better than pageants.
Every day, each morning
Was sent for grazing
To plains and mountains.
Did not like everything.
"Not every bush is food
Not every green, good,
I am the Bride-Face
And always must select…"
She said and kept her word.
When returned with the rest
Near dusk, when night, day
Kept fighting, for kingdom
She stood, legs apart
Left breasts to my Mom,
And she filled whitish bowl.
I could read in goat's eyes:
"Keep my milk on a side
Since mine is best of best."
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem