I am trying to be a perfect woman.
A perfect phenomenal woman,
Woman, nobly planned,
a wonder, a work of art
A masterpiece, straight from the God’s heart

The woman that is not belligerent, that harms no soul,
Never lost in the depths of wine.
Never resorts to wantonness,
Won't kill anyone,
Busy as a bee, silently working,
Loving to the core, with fathomless passion,
Painstaking, just like Mother Earth,
No grumblings, only ceaseless toil.
From dawn to dusk, she does household chores.

Her strength, her dignity comes to the fore.
She is so cute, so beautiful, so calm, so wise,
Like flowers blooming in sunrise.

When furtively, I watch from a corner,
A hundred flowers bloom in my heart
Whenever I see a woman.
I watch in awe and yearn
To take many forms of women.
Whose daughter will I be?
A daughter man’s cherished gem, shining day and night.

whose smile lights up to his heart’s content.
Whose sister will I be?
A sister strong, a guiding force.
Whose wife will I be?
A wife who stands through the darkest night.
I must be a mother
And a mother’s arms, so deep, so true,
A love so elysian, pure, divine.

A phoenix soul reborn in morning ash.
A mother who builds, heals, and endures to shine.
Her soul, a spark—both fierce and divine.
The maker of a house—a homemaker.
I salute woman
She is the past, the yet-to-be, and eternal.
I try, I yearn,
To be a woman.

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