We are soft in the frosty
winter;
we are gentle in the heated
summer;
we are quiet in the dallied
spring;
we are one in the fading
autumn.
Our bodies glow
with martyr's blood;
pure as the virgin on the
crumbling earth.
Love gives its name to our
delicate skin,
and you shed a tear
when our necks are handed
like confections.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem
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