With hair like golden grain
And beauty that would make the angels jealous
That is the girl I describe
Nicer than the first sunbeams on a brilliant summer morning
With a smile that would make even the most hardened person weep with joy
That is the girl I describe
Joy follows her like cold follows winter
Serene and graceful in all of her actions
That is the girl I describe
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem