she did not bother
she did not summon for lightning
to hit her enemy
so she be killed instantly
she did not call
for the devil
she did not curse
she did not bang the table with
her fists
she may be angry
but she did resort to any legal action
or even her capacity for violence
she sat beside me
and told me, 'my dear
the kettle no matter how high
will always have
its commensurate
cover'
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem