On a day when the sun first rose,
there was a woman standing in a graceful pose.
In her mouth,
there was a rose.
When she spun,
she threw it to the person she closely knows.
When she first raised her hand,
she would jump and flip to grab a rose when she would land.
She would dance within the circle of white.
Then she would rest and enjoy the garden of light.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem