his mother wore white
he was young and compliant
she took him to the river
tied his hands with a blanket
as he woke up from sleep
and then she threw him there
what his mother did not know
was that he already
knew how to swim
and the depth and rage of the river
are no threat to him
his mother did not smile
she meant death
it was over
he knew how to get out from the
tie of the white blanket
he escaped and swam
to the other side of the river
climbed the mountain
and then to the eyes of his mother
he was gone
he started life all over again
with another name.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem