She stares at her reflection in a mirror,
fighting to assimilate the person she sees,
with the person she feels.
A stranger with grey hair and lines
stares quizically back at her.
After critiquing one another for some time,
she is relieved to find one thing is still familiar -
her eyes.
Not the lines, or the skin that loosely folds around them,
but the sienna circles.
She sees that they remain glistening pools,
and in them swims the secret of her youth.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem