If all the mirrors would break sometimes,
The too beautiful ones of the humankind
Will start to polish the darkness
That would encircle their hubris;

The only ones who wouldn’t be bother
Would be the women-mothers and the women-wives,
Only they could be able like heavenly swans
To insulate the milk from the water;

The universe would be witness at beauty’s celebration,
For nourish the blind the milk would be enough;
People could walk naked endlong the path
From amongst their broken reflections.