Moonlight gathers in her golden tresses,
and make glow the lacy hem of
her tattered dresses,
brown-eyed and barefoot with
a beautiful smile,
she wonders and dreams of walking
down the aisle,
He birds know her voice,
and answer when she call,
and bears they fear her,
though shes not very tall,
Moonlight gathers in her golden tresses,
and make glow the lacy hem,
of her tattered dresses.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem